Will the Real Dean Winchester Please Stand Up
by What You See in the Shadows
Summary: After being attacked, Dean wakes up in a world where there are no demons and his life has gone in a very different direction. But if he's there, who is the Dean Winchester now living his life? Takes place towards the end of season six.
1. The Adversary

**_Author's Note:_**_ Hi! this is my first Supernatural fanfic so I hope you all enjoy. This takes place in season six before the brothers find out what Cas is up to. To anyone reading my Criminal Minds story... sorry for the long delay. My computer died a day after the last chapter posted and I just got a new one. I haven't forgotten about it though. _

**Chapter 1: The Adversary**

The woman ducked down the dark alley, careful to make sure she was not seen. Any kind of interruption would only delay her and she could not allow that. _He _would not be happy if she was late and she could still remember what happened to the last demon who had upset him. She had never seen torture like that before or since, which was saying a lot since she had spent quite some time in Hell.

Shaking the images from her head, the woman pulled open an old door that was almost hidden due to poor lighting and excessive graffiti. She stepped through, pulling it shut behind her, and started down the stairs to her left, her high heel boots clicking loudly on the cement steps. At the bottom, she opened a rather rusty fire door, cringing at the loud screeching its hinges made. Then it was down the hall and to the right. Finally she reached the door she needed. She did not enter, though. Entering without permission would be just as bad, if not worse, as tardiness. _He _knew she was there. All she had to do was wait to be summoned.

Twelve minutes later she heard his voice. "Enter."

She walked into the large room and straight to the center where the one she had come to see stood. "It is all set." She announced, rather pleased that she had good news to deliver.

He spun to face her. His slightly longish hair was perfectly combed and his tailored clothes were immaculate. He could have been considered attractive if his skin wasn't pitch-black and his face not marred by a permanent sneer. She was still unsure what exactly he was, but she knew he was old and very powerful. And her ticket to greatness… if he didn't kill her first. "I do not remember granting you permission to speak, Linda."

Linda knew better than to say that she was sorry. She merely nodded and cast her eyes to the ground. After a moment he spoke again. "You may now beg forgiveness."

"I am not worthy of forgiveness as I have offended you greatly. I do still apologize though for my terrible disrespect."

"Very well, we may move on. I believe you were attempting to inform me that you have gathered and set up all that is necessary for the ritual, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Very well. I have news as well. I have determined the adversary. The one and only human that has a chance to stop me. After reviewing all the texts and torturing several seers, I now know that Dean Winchester is the one."

"Dean Winchester?" Linda gasped. "Oh, crap! He could ruin everything! He's killed so many…"

"I am quite aware of his reputation."

"But what are we gonna do about him? If he interferes it's all over. You even said he has a chance of ruining your plans."

"According to all the prophecies he is the one who can stop this, yes. But that does not mean I will allow it."

"Allow it! No one _allows_ him to do anything. He does what ever he wants. And what he _wants_ is to destroy all of us. And he's damn good at it. And…"

"You forget yourself."

Linda shut her mouth quickly at the quiet warning. She had forgotten. She forgot who she was speaking with and what he would do if he perceived her panicking as insolence.

"That's better. Now do you really believe I would not have a plan? Take this." He handed her a small, but sharp metal rod that looked almost like a knitting needle. There were tiny etchings all over it and the tip was stained with dried blood. "All you need do is stab him with it and he will be a threat no longer."

"It will kill him that easily?"

"No. The prophecy is clear that the adversary must not interfere but that he cannot be killed by myself or my followers."

"Then how…"

"Do not question."

"It will be done." Linda nodded once.

"You are dismissed. Hurry to carry out your mission as it will not be long before it is time."

Without a word, the woman turned and left. She first had to find the Winchesters. It would not be too difficult, what with the contacts she now had since she was working with _him_. Then came the scary part. Getting close enough to the hunter to stab him.

_Two Weeks Later_

Dean cursed himself for letting the spirit get so close to him as he felt the back of his head slam into the wall. He slid down to the floor as he heard a shot gun go off to his left. He struggled to his feet, ignoring the dizziness in favor of getting those damn bones burned. And really, what kind of psycho keeps their mother's bones in a trunk in their bedroom. No wonder she couldn't move on. But that was gonna change if he could just get close enough to use his lighter. Suddenly a lamp smacked him in the forehead with enough force to land him back on the ground. Now he felt blood trickling down both the front and back of his head. "That's it! That bitch is gonna burn." Not even bothering to get up, Dean crawled across the floor to the old, slightly moldy trunk that contained the already salted and fuel covered bones and lit his lighter. The injured hunter tossed it in, listening with a sense of complete satisfaction as the spirit roared in protest. Then it was silent.

"Dude, that sucked." Dean stood up, pointedly ignoring the helping hand his brother had extended.

"You're just pissed that she got the jump on you."

"Damn right I am! That bitch was ninety-eight when she died. Old, dead chicks have no right moving that fast. She should be using a ghost walker or some crap like that. Not moving faster than a freakin' bullet."

"Isn't it 'faster than a speeding bullet'?" Sam asked, looking far too smug for Dean's peace of mind.

"Whatever." He grumbled. His head was spinning far too much to keep any kind of intelligent banter going. "Grab the stuff and let's go."

Without waiting for a response, the older brother walked out of the room, leaving the other hunter to pack up their supplies. He stormed through the kitchen and out the door, then walked up the short front path. When Dean reached the gate, he stopped to unlatch it, although he was almost certain he'd left it open when they'd entered not that long ago. But hey, he'd gotten his head bashed in pretty good so maybe his brain got a little scrambled. It seemed very unlikely that anyone would go to the house of a recently deceased, mommy-obsessed jerk and close the gate at one in the freakin' morning.

As his fingers worked the rusty latch, a woman stepped out from behind the too high bushes that lined the sidewalk and jabbed a knitting needle into the back of his hand.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean pulled his hand back and glared at the woman. She looked to be about thirty or so, with long brown hair and too much make-up. Oh, and her eyes were black. The hunter looked down at his hand. It hurt like hell, but the damage didn't seem bad. He glared at the demon. "Dude, really? That's the best you got? Stab my hand with a crappy craft item. Am I supposed to be trembling in fear now or something? Cause I gotta tell you that…" he was cut off by an awful burning sensation in his hand. He glanced back down at his injury to see a soft glow start from the wound and work its way through his hand and up his arm. As the light traveled over his entire body he screamed in sheer agony and everything went dark.

_**Author's note part two:** Sorry it's so short but this is just to get the story started. Besides, it seemed like a good place to stop. Please review so I know if it's any good and if I should continue. I will respond to all comments or questions._


	2. Confusion

_**Author's Note:** Hi! First I'd like to thank CandyCakes and thoughtyouknewr for reviewing. THANKS! It's nice to know people are reading and enjoying this. And speaking of enjoying... hope you all enjoy this chapter._

**Chapter Two: Confusion**

At first, as consciousness began to take hold of him, everything felt very familiar to Dean. After all, waking up in pain was something he was quite used to. His head was pounding in time with his heartbeat and he could feel the tackiness of dried blood on his forehead and down the right side of his face. He also felt a slight burning sensation in his right hand. All together it wasn't the worst condition he'd ever woken up in, but the headache made the thought of getting up damn unappealing. So, instead, Dean groaned and rolled over, burying his face in the soft pillows. And that was his first clue that something was wrong. The pillow was far too comfortable and smelled way too good for him to be in that crappy-assed no-tell motel that he and Sam were staying at. And come to think of it, he could feel the warmth of the sun on his body when he knew that there weren't any windows in their room. And since he'd been hunting an old dead hag the previous night, he was pretty sure he hadn't gotten lucky with some hot chick who'd taken him home. So where the hell was he?

Dean opened his eyes and rolled over into a sitting position. All traces of sleep were gone as he took in his surroundings, ready for a fight if it were to come to that. He sat on a king sized bed on top of a light blue comforter. Matching pillows (one now blood stained) were arranged by the cherry-wood headboard. The head of the large bed was up against the wall and positioned in what seemed to be the exact middle of that wall. Also in the room was a dresser and two nightstands that matched the bed-frame, a clothes hamper, a desk with a lamp, laptop computer and an office chair, and a sliding closet door with a full length mirror. The room itself was painted a soft blue. And there was a huge window that took up more than half of the wall to the left of the bed. Dark blue drapes (the kind meant to block out light) were pulled open letting the morning sun shine into the room. The room was actually rather nice. Dean was certain he'd never seen it before in his life.

The hunter stood and walked to the window. Looking out, he realized that he was on the second story of a two-story house in a middle-class type of neighborhood. The lawn was well cared for and encircled by a picket fence (wood-stained… not white) and a cement path led to a nicely-detailed front gate. A front gate… Dean looked down at the infected-looking puncture wound in his right hand as the memory of what happened at a different, more run-down gate came back to him.

"Damned skanky bitch!" Dean cursed under his breath. He wasn't sure what was going on, but since her slutty face was the last thing he'd seen, he was positive that she had something to do with it. But if she had kidnapped him, she'd done a piss-poor job of patting him down. He could feel the pistol still tucked into the back of his pants (along with the pistol shaped bruise from sleeping on it), the knife hidden in his boot, and the cell phone in his front pocket. He was just about to pull it out to call Sam when the door behind him swung open.

"Dean, are you awake yet? I thought I heard you…" Dean spun around to face Sam, the younger Winchester's face going pale as he took in his brother's appearance. "Holy crap, Dean! What happened to your head?"

"Sam!" Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "Damn am I glad you're here!"

"Why wouldn't I be? And again, how did you injure your head?"

"Dude, it's from Grandma Ghost-bitch's wrestling match. Where are we? And why are you dressed in those pansy-assed clothes?"

Sam looked down at his charcoal-gray suit, purple button down shirt, gray and purple striped tie, and well-shined shoes. "What's wrong with my outfit? I'm dressed for work."

"We got another job?" Dean was getting more confused by the minute. And judging by the look on his brother's face, he wasn't the only one.

"_I've_ got work. Last I knew, you were still on leave." He looked suspiciously at Dean. "Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should go to the hospital and get that looked at." He pointed at Dean's head injury.

"I'm fine. I just… what the hell's going on?"

"Did you sleep in your clothes again last night?" Sam sighed. "Look, I know you're having a rough time. I can't even imagine what you're going through, but you need to take better care of yourself. You haven't been eating or sleeping well enough and I still think you should talk to someone. You know, a professional. And both Mom and Dad agree."

"Mom and Dad? Dude, what are you even talking about?"

"I spoke with them last night after everyone went to bed. They're concerned about you too."

"Uh, Sam, either my head injury is far worse than I thought and I'm hallucinating all this, or you got conked on the head last night too. Because there's no way you spoke with our parents last night. Not unless…" Dean cut off mid-sentence. He suddenly remembered his experience with the djinn all those years ago and the time, much more recently, that him and Sam had ended up in that bizarro-world where their lives were a television show. And this felt just like those. So either he was insane, was dreaming while being fed upon, or was in an alternate universe. And what did it say about his life that he could pretty much dismiss the first (and only normal) one of those options. And since he was pretty sure there weren't any demons with the powers of the djinn that only left one possibility. And if he was stuck in a different dimension, he should probably play along at least for while. "I mean, yeah, uh, are they doing okay?"

"They're fine. But concerned about you."

"Right, because I've been having a hard time ever since… that thing…" Dean winced knowing he sounded like an idiot, but hoping to trick Sam out of more information.

"I know you miss her, bro. We all do. But Melissa wouldn't want this for you."

"No, of course not." Dean agreed. "You're right. I'll try to take better care of myself. But, uh… Melissa, she just, you know, meant a lot to me." The elder brother figured that 'Melissa' must have been a girlfriend. One that had lived with him if the well-decorated room had anything to say about it.

"I know she did, dude. And look, I didn't mean what I said last night. You didn't have to take the ring off to prove you could get over her."

Okay, not just a girlfriend, then. This alternate Dean must have recently lost his wife. But still… a house, a marriage, a job, living parents, and what seemed like a decent relationship with his little brother. Alternate Dean's life didn't seem too bad.

"No, you're right Sam. I just needed some time."

"And I'll give you all the time you need. That's why Jess and I moved in with you. To help out any way we can, so you can take some time to get yourself back together."

Jess? Dean glanced down at Sam's left hand and saw a gold band. So, alternate Sam had a pretty sweet life as well.

"Look, Dean, get yourself cleaned up and let me know if you need a doctor to look at that head wound. I can call the office and tell them I'm gonna be late if you need stitches. But we gotta do it fast, because Jess will be back with the kids soon. She took them to go get some more diapers from the store but that was half an hour ago and the trip doesn't take that long."

"Kids?" Dean tried to picture Sam as a father.

"Yeah, they went with her so you could get some sleep. But you know your little girl will get upset if she sees that Daddy has a booboo."

Daddy? Well, it looked like they weren't Sam's kids after all.

...

_...supernatural...supernatural...supernatural...supernatural...supernatural...supernatural...supernatural..._

_..._

Sam sat watching his brother sleep. He wished that Dean would wake up soon. Sam needed to know that he was okay. He needed to know what had happened that had led to his older brother's unconscious state. He never should have let Dean go out ahead of him the previous night.

When he'd finally finished packing up their stuff and gotten out the door, he'd seen the other hunter lying crumpled on the ground near the front gate. Sam had run to him, concerned that the head injury had been far worse than it had looked. But when he'd reached his brother and turned him over, he was shocked to see no mark on him. He was certain that Dean's head had been bleeding, but there wasn't even a bump where he'd been hit. And that wasn't the only strange thing. Dean's over-shirt was missing as were his boots and socks. And he appeared to be weaponless. After several failed attempts to wake the other man, Sam had dragged him to the Impala and got him into the back, careful of his head just in case there was some kind of unseen damage. He searched his brother's pockets for the keys, but they weren't there. They weren't on the ground and Sam knew for a fact that they hadn't gotten left behind in the house. So, after hotwiring the car, he drove back to their motel and dragged the still unwaking body into their room and settled him on the bed.

He'd kept vigil over his older brother all night, growing more worried as the hours passed. He was almost ready to call Bobby when Dean's eyes blinked rapidly a couple of times before opening completely.

"Dean? You okay, man? What happened?"

"Sam?" the other man looked around, confusion written all over his features. "Dude, where are we?"

"I dragged your sorry ass back to the motel last night. You've been out for eight hours, completely unresponsive. You had me worried. So what happened to you?"

"Motel? What motel? And what are you talking about? Nothing happened last night. I went to bed after you acted like a complete ass to me and then I woke up here. So why don't you fill in the blanks. And where are the kids? Are they okay?"

"Uh, there are no kids here, Dean. And what do you mean _I_ acted like an ass to _you_? Dude, you were the one that got all pissy and left me with the clean up. And you didn't go to bed, you passed out near the front gate."

"I didn't even go outside! And by the way, this place is way below your usual hotel standards. And why do you have a motel room anyway? Dude, you're not cheating on Jess are you? 'Cause I will so kick your ass if you do."

"Jess? What the hell are you talking about, Dean?"

"Jess. You know… your wife. Where is she? Is she watching the kids?"

"Dude you're not making any sense! What kids are you talking about?"

"My kids!" Dean screamed back at him.

Sam stared at him, trying to see if he was playing some kind of massively dumb prank. But he looked completely serious and completely freaked out. Something was definitely wrong and arguing more wasn't going to accomplish anything.

"Okay, Dean, calm down. How are you feeling? Does your head hurt? Are you feeling dizzy or disoriented?"

"Right now I'm just pissed with a side order of confusion. What's going on? Why are we here? If this is a lame attempt to get me to open up and talk about my feelings, my answer is still no. I appreciate your concern, but I'm not ready to talk just yet. I'll admit I haven't been eating much, and I still don't sleep well, but I'm holding it together, dude. I think I'm doing pretty damn good. I mean, jeez Sam, Missy hasn't even been dead three months yet, and you expect me to just be okay? Let me tell you, you don't get over a dead wife that easily."

Wife? Sam's attention immediately went to something his eyes had seen but his brain hadn't registered. A gold band on his brother's left hand. Then things started to click into place. This wasn't his older brother at all.

**_Author's Note part two:_**_ I know that not much happened, but I had to set the stage for things to come, and hopefully it was still enjoyable. And let me know if I need to specify which sections are our universe and which are AU as each chapter will have a little of both. Please review and let me know what you all think._


	3. More Questions Than Answers

_**Author's Note:** Thank you so much to Bree Chub, Julefor, and DaughterOfPoseidon333 for the wonderful reviews. And thanks to everyone who has favorited or story alerted this. I'm glad you are enjoying the ride. If you haven't figured it out, each chapter will have two parts: Our Dean in the AU followed by AU Dean in the real world. Hope it's not too confusing. Well... enjoy!_

_**Chapter Three: More Questions Than Answers**_

Dean Winchester stepped out of the shower and wrapped the soft light blue towel around his waist. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken such a wonderful shower. The water had been the perfect temperature and the pressure combined with the massage setting on the showerhead made for an awesome experience. And now, to top it all off, he got to dry himself off with one of the softest towels known to man. Maybe getting so excited about a shower was kinda chick-like, but damn it, he just didn't care. He had even been tempted to put on one of the cozy-looking bathrobes he'd found in the bathroom closet, but the thought that they belonged to someone else (even if that someone was sorta himself) made it a little too weird. On the other hand, he was gonna have to get over that since he was going to need something to wear. And speaking of which…

Dean stepped out of the bathroom and walked back down the hall to other-Dean's bedroom. Once inside, he closed the door and walked to the dresser. Pulling out the top drawer he saw neatly folded boxers on the right side and woman's underwear and bras on the left. Pulling out a pair of gray boxers, he shut the drawer and opened the next. Socks… both men's and women's. He chuckled when he noticed that while the guy had plain white or gray socks, his wife had obviously preferred printed ones. More than two thirds of the drawer was stuffed with holiday socks, and ones with cats, dogs, lizards, ladybugs, hearts, stars, and an assortment of other odd patterns. The next drawer had a variety of printed t-shirts. Dean grabbed a black Metallica shirt, then realized that it was actually one of Melissa's. He was beginning to like this chick. Putting it back, he pulled out the dude's version of the same shirt and snatched a pair of jeans from the bottom drawer. After getting dressed he stared at himself in the full length mirror. The head wound didn't look too bad now that the blood was cleaned up. He opened the closet and was disappointed that he didn't see that there weren't any flannel over-shirts. There were a few nice button down shirts, half-a-dozen ties, one gray blazer, and two hooded sweat-shirts (one black, one blue). On the plus side, it appeared that other-Dean didn't own any douche-y suits like the one Sam had on.

After pulling on his boots, Dean left the room and walked downstairs. He carefully took in his surroundings. If he had to pretend to be other-Dean he would need as much information as he could get. Lining the stairwell wall on the right were framed photos. A wedding photo of other-Dean and Melissa (she was a petite brunette with shoulder length hair, brown eyes, and an amazing smile), a picture of the two of them on a cruise ship all smiles and wind-ruffled hair, other-Dean with his arms around his obviously pregnant wife, a professional photograph of them smiling while a chubby six-month old sat in other-Dean's lap, the same little baby girl sitting in a high chair wearing a party hat with the number one on it, a newborn baby boy fast asleep in a bassinette, another professional photo but with the now two-year old girl in other-Dean's lap and a six-month old boy in Melissa's, and finally a picture of the two children taken approximately one year later. If it was recent, that put the children at about three and a year and a half. Which made sense if Jess was out picking up diapers.

The stairs led into the living room. The front door was about a dozen feet in front of him and a doorway on his left led into a spacious, well-lit kitchen. Dean stepped in just as Sam placed a platter of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast on the table.

"Damn, that smells good!" Dean grinned as he took a seat and started filling up his plate. "Can I get a cup of coffee?"

"Sure." Sam replied, looking pleased as he filled a mug from the coffee pot. "I'm glad you decided not to skip breakfast again."

"See, told ya I was listening to you." Dean said around a mouthful of food.

"And thank you for that. I was really concerned about you. Speaking of which, how's your head doing? Do you need a doctor?"

"Nah, it'll be fine."

"Do you remember how that happened? Because if you don't, that might be a sign of a concussion."

"Uh, got up to pee last night and tripped. Hit my head on the corner of the night stand."

"Dude, that seriously makes you the world's biggest klutz."

"It was dark." Dean defended.

"Maybe you should borrow Nick's nightlight." Sam teased him.

Nick. That must be other-Dean's son. "Shut up."

Sam laughed as he sat down opposite of Dean and began to spread some jam on a piece of toast. "Oh, don't forget, Jess and I are going out tonight so you don't have to worry about making extra food for us. Actually, I think you promised the kids pizza and you know Rebecca will hold you to that. We'll be back late, so don't feel like you gotta wait up or anything." He paused, looking concerned. "You know what, we can stay in if you want us to. If you're not feeling well."

"Dude, go. Have fun, show the girl a good time. Or, you know, your lame version of a good time."

"You're a jerk, Dean."

"Yeah, and you're a bitch."

"What? Did you just call me a bitch?"

"Never mind." Dean replied quickly. For a moment he'd forgotten that this wasn't his Sam. "But, seriously, you should get out tonight. I'll be fine." Sam's absence would give him much needed alone time to try and figure out what had happened and how the hell he was going to fix it.

Before Sam had an opportunity to reply, the front door opened and Jess walked in carrying a small boy in one arm and holding a little girl's hand with the other. Seeing Dean, the girl (who was wearing purple jeans and a Hello Kitty t-shirt) pulled away from Jess and ran towards him, short brown pigtails bobbing with every step.

"Daddy!" she jumped up into his lap and threw her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek enthusiastically before settling down in his lap. "Aunt Jess took us to the store. We got diapers for Nick, and milk, and bread cause I want a pea-butter samitch, and apples, and food, and I got these for you to make you happy." She held her hand out to Jess, who pulled a bag of M&Ms from her purse and handed them to the three-year old. The girl (Rebecca was the name Sam had mentioned) then gave them to Dean.

"Thanks." Dean smiled. "I feel happy already. And they'll be even better if you and your brother share them with me."

"Yeah!" She immediately agreed.

"After breakfast." Sam insisted.

"Aw, Unca Sammy, I want them now."

"Yeah, Uncle Sammy we want then now." Dean joined in.

"Yeah, great role model you are." Sam muttered.

Jess put the little boy down and he ran to Dean as well. "Up." He requested.

Dean pulled him into his lap, ruffling the little guy's spikey blonde hair. The boy (Nick) giggled, put him fingers into his mouth and began chewing on them.

"Hey, little dude, food's on the table. You don't gotta eat yourself." Dean was rewarded with more giggles.

When breakfast was done, Sam retrieved his briefcase, kissed his wife and headed out the door. Dean had managed to find out that Sam was a lawyer, Jess worked from home doing some kind of computer programming crap or something, Becca (as Dean learned other-Dean affectionately called his daughter) loved Disney channel and was quite proud that she had just finished potty training, Nick ate almost as much as his father and only spoke a few words, and that other-Dean was sorely missed at Lawrence High School, where he taught an automotive shop class. It was rather difficult to get information out of the others while not sounding like all of this was new to him. But he eventually came to the realization that, dead wife or not, other-Dean's life had turned out so much better than his own. It kinda hurt to think that all of this could've been his if only that yellow-eyed bastard had never darkened their doorstep.

The kids rushed into the living-room to watch a cartoon about four children flying around in a sentient rocket-ship. Jess started washing the dishes, telling him to take some time to relax while the little ones were busy. Dean gratefully accepted the offer and went back upstairs to other-Dean's bedroom. Sitting down at the desk, he turned on the computer and began searching the web for any of the classic signs that might indicate a demon had ever been in Kansas. He found nothing. As a matter of fact, he got the same results when doing a nationwide search. It seemed that either there weren't any demons hanging around this dimension or they just knew how to keep low profile. And there certainly had been no apocalypses in the last few years. But from what he could tell by articles and websites, there definitely were ghosts and other paranormal creatures out wrecking havoc. Which was good. Because that meant that maybe he could track down some kind of information on how he got here so that he could get to work on getting home. Because as awesome as this life was, it wasn't his. And his life, his brother, was waiting for him somewhere.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean stared at Sam trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He wasn't sure how or why his brother had taken him to this crappy motel, but there was no way he was staying here. He had to get back to his children. They had just recently lost their mother and who knew how they would react when they found out that their daddy was missing. Sam had gone silent and appeared to be deep in thought, so with a shrug, Dean walked to the door, prepared to leave.

"Dude, where are you going?"

"Home, Sammy."

"You gonna walk there with no shoes?"

Dean looked down at his bare feet and sighed. "Are you offering me a ride?"

"Yeah, just give me a sec to pack up."

Half an hour later Dean sat in the passenger seat of a pretty sweet looking '67 Impala that Sam claimed he owned even though he had to hotwire it (and where the hell had he learned how to do that?). He wasn't sure where exactly they were and he was getting angrier at his brother and more worried about his kids by the minute. A cell phone rang and Sam answered it, holding it up to his ear. Dean wondered if he'd lost yet another blue-tooth device.

"Yeah? Bobby, hey, I need to talk to you but not right now…Look I'll explain later…uh, he's the problem…nope, not dead again…I said I'll explain later…no, look, we can't take a job right now…are there any other hunters around the area?...look, we really can't…kids? Oh, man...yeah, okay. We're on it. I'll call you later. Bye."

Dean didn't understand most of what the call was about, but he knew they had talked about him being some sort of problem and some job involving hunting and kids. "So, who was that?"

"That was Bobby."

"Yeah, I heard his name. Not deaf, you know. So who is he? A client of yours?"

"Uh, yeah."

"For a lawyer, you suck at lying, dude."

"Look, he wants me to look into a…ah, some kids that may need help."

"Help with what? And what does it have to do with hunting?"

"I'll get the details when I get there."

Dean knew he was getting the brush-off, but he was unsure how to get more information out of his little brother. And what the hell was going on with him anyway. Nothing was making sense. "Well, just drop me off at home and you can do whatever you like."

"Sorry, but we're closer to the job than your house."

Dean decided to try a new tactic. Asking nicely. "Sam, please tell me what's going on. Why did you bring me to that motel? Where are we? What kind of job are you taking on outside of your office? This just isn't making sense."

"I can't tell you right now, Dean. Trust me, you wouldn't even believe me."

"What the hell does that mean? Look, at least let me call home and assure Becca and Nick that I'm okay. They can't take anymore trauma right now. Please."

"I'm sorry, but I can't. We're here anyways."

As the car pulled up to the curb, Dean looked out the window at an old abandoned-looking apartment building. "This is the place? What are we doing here again?" He was getting tired of asking question that would most likely not be answered truthfully.

"_We_ aren't doing anything._ I'm_ going inside and _you_ are going to wait here until I return."

"But…"

"I mean it, Dean. Don't move from this car." With that, the younger man got out of the Impala.

Dean watched him disappear into the building. Part of him was ready to leave Sam to whatever fate had in store for him. But the big brother part of him wouldn't allow it. He'd always looked out for his little brother and even Sammy's new found insanity couldn't change that. Growing up, Dean had taken self-defense classes and had learned from his ex-marine father so that he'd be able to protect his brother. Sam, on the other hand didn't want anything to do with fighting and was more that content to leave the rough stuff to Dean. So, if anything bad were to happen in that apartment building (and judging by the condition of both it and the neighborhood that was a real possibility) he'd need his big brother for backup.

Dean opened the door and climbed out, remembering not to lock it due to Sam's lack of keys. As he approached the door, he heard what sounded like children screaming, fear evident in their young voices. Without hesitation, Dean threw open the door and went inside. He was following the sounds of the children down the dilapidated hallway, when he heard his brother cry out in pain. Dean picked up an old piece of pipe that lay on the ground. He hadn't been there to save his wife, but he'd be damned if he'd let another beloved family member get killed.

Dean reached the door that the noises were coming from, kicked it open, ignoring the pain in his foot that reminded him that he was shoeless, and raised the pipe for attack. But he was completely unprepared for the sight that met his eyes. Six young kids were huddled in a corner staring in fear while Sam was being pinned to the wall by a grayish, humanoid creature. Parts of its skin that were visible (which was most of it's body as it was only wearing a pair of torn, dirty pants) were peeling off and its fingers looked more like claws. When it turned to face Dean he saw red eyes and a huge mouth filled with sharp teeth. Obviously deciding that the new person was more a threat than the injured one in its grasp, the creature threw Sam to the floor, hunched down low to the ground and sprung across the room to land only two feet from Dean, who was frozen in fear and disbelief.

_**Author's Note part two:** So sorry for the cliff-hanger. Next chapter should be up soon. Please review._


	4. Playing a Different Role

_**Author's Note:** Thanks to Evenmoor, lljn105, and DaughterOfPoseidon333 for your wonderful reviews. Sorry it took almost a week to get this out but hope you all enjoy it._

**Chapter Four: Playing a Different Role**

Dean had completely lost track of time while he'd been on the computer, so he was startled when the bedroom door opened and Jess called his name. He spun to face her as she approached him.

"Hey," She said in a gentle voice. "You've been up here for quite a while. Is everything okay?"

"Oh, ah… yeah. Everything's great." And damn if that didn't sound lame.

"Interesting reading materials." Jess commented, looking passed him to the computer screen. The one still displaying his research into the paranormal.

"Yeah, crazy things you can find online, right?" He flashed her one of his most charming smiles, hoping that she'd drop the topic. Because really, why the hell would a high school shop teacher with two kids and a recently deceased wife have any interest in demons and ghosts and crap like that.

But of course she didn't drop it. When had a Winchester's luck ever been that good? "Is there a reason you're looking up…" she leaned closer, reading the screen. "…true accounts of restless spirits."

"Research. For a book I'm writing. Fiction, of course."

"A book? You never mentioned this before."

"It's a work in progress."

"Dean, I know you're having a hard time, but I hope you're not honestly entertaining the idea of ghosts."

"'Course not."

Jess sighed, looking sad. "Dean, don't do this to yourself. I know what you're thinking. When my dad passed away from cancer, my mom spent a fortune on psychics that claimed they could communicate with the dead. But they can't. Dad just wasn't here anymore. He was in heaven, which is where Melissa is now. She's gone, Dean. Please don't go down this road."

"I'm not. Really, I'm just writing a book about two guys that go around the country hunting down ghosts and monsters."

"Can I see it?"

"Uh, it's not ready yet."

"Dean…" Jess's tone was one of warning.

"Look, just drop it, okay. I'm not trying to contact my dead wife, so there's no reason to be concerned."

"Okay, Dean. But you can talk with me or Sam about anything if you need to. And maybe you can even talk to Pastor Scott after church tomorrow."

"Church… right. Look, thanks for your concern, but everything's fine. I'm gonna go check on the kids." With that, Dean closed the computer and left the room.

When he got into the living room, Becca jumped up from where she had been sitting on the floor working on a wooden numbers puzzle and ran to him. "Daddy!"

"Hey." Dean scooped the little girl up off the floor.

"I did the puh-yull all by myself. But the Nick took all the pea-ez back out an I gotta do it all over again!"

"Yeah, well maybe I can help."

"I can do it." The little girl insisted. "But you can watch me." She wiggled out of his arms and dropped back down in front of her toy.

"Sure, sweetheart." He sat down on the floor, only to have his lap immediately filled with a little boy. Nick turned enough to look up at Dean and grin at him mischievously. "So, you've been stealing puzzle pieces, huh little man?"

The boy giggled and nodded his head rather enthusiastically.

"Daddy, when I'm done can we go to the pay-gound?"

Dean looked over at other-Dean's daughter. "You wanna go to the playground?"

"Yeah, you promised."

Dean had no clue what promises his alternate self had made, but he couldn't deny the pleading look the girl was giving him. Damn, this was how Sammy had gotten away with so much while they were growing up. "So I guess we'll just have to go after you finish that puzzle."

"I'm done!" Becca exclaimed, jumping up from the half-finished puzzle and rushing to the front door. Nick followed her and started banging on the door with both hands when Dean didn't get there fast enough. Becca had sat down and was trying to fit her left shoe on her right foot. Dean crouched down to assist her. When both kids had their footwear on, the hunter stood and started looking through the keys hanging on hooks by the door. He had no clue what kind of car other-Dean had or which keys were his.

"What are you looking for?" Jess questioned as she approached him.

"My car keys. I'm taking the kids to the park."

"You're driving to the park?"

"Yeah."

"The park that is less than two blocks away?" Jess asked incredulously.

"Well, obviously I don't need the car for that." Dean said agreeably. Then thinking quickly, he added "But I wanted to take them out to lunch afterwards."

"Yay! I want Buger-Keen!" Becca exclaimed.

"Of course we'll go to Burger King."

The little girl started jumping up and down with excitement, while her brother went back to pounding impatiently on the door.

"Aren't you ordering pizza tonight?"

Dean knew that Jess was only trying to help, but she was really starting to get on his nerves. He was having a hard time keeping up this act and her constant questions weren't helping. "Dude, what are you, the nutrition police? One day of fast food won't hurt 'em. I'll cook nice and healthy tomorrow."

With a sigh, she handed him a set of keys she'd taken off the wall. He snatched them with a mumbled 'thank you', picked up Nick and opened the door. Becca held onto his hand as they stepped out. Dean breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. He looked down at the keys in his hand, then at the two cars in front of him. One was a red Volkswagen Beetle, the other a black Mustang. Figuring that the was no way that any version of himself would be caught dead in what he considered a chick-car, he walked to the Mustang. He opened the back passenger door and strapped Nick into the gray car-seat, glad that they were pretty simple to figure out. The he helped Becca into her booster seat. After she was buckled in, he got into the driver's seat and started it up. It wasn't his baby, but it would do until he could get home.

…

…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…

…

Dean snapped out of his fear-induced paralysis and prepared to attack the creature, but it was too late. The thing plowed into him, knocking him back and onto the floor. The wind was knocked from him and before he could react he felt claws digging into his ribs and a set of sharp teeth sinking into his left shoulder.

"Ahhhh!" He screamed in agony. Acting out of pure instinct and self-preservation, he raised his right arm and swung the pipe as hard as he could into the back of the creature's skull. Its cry of pain was as loud as his own had been. Its hands released Dean as it clutched its head in a strangely human gesture. Ignoring the excruciating pain radiating from his shoulder, the young man scrambled backwards, trying to put as much room between himself and the creature as possible.

The creature. His brain was desperately trying to make sense of what was happening. That thing that had attacked him could not possibly exist, but his bleeding wounds were telling him otherwise. And if he wanted to live through this he was gonna have to ignore the disbelief and terror coursing through him and focus on surviving.

Once he'd put a couple feet of distance between them, Dean struggled to his feet. He stepped forward and brought the pipe down once more onto the thing's skull. It made a sickening crunching sound as blood splattered all over. Dean pushed down the feeling of intense nausea and lifted the pipe again. But the creature's clawed hand shot out and grabbed his ankle, a quick pull bringing him once again to the floor.

His vision blacked out for a moment as his head collided with the hard surface. By the time he could once again see straight, the thing was looming over him. He went to defend himself only to realize that he'd dropped the pipe. He was definitely screwed.

"Hey, get away from him!" The creature turned to look across the room at Sam. Dean saw that his younger brother had recovered and was now pointing a gun at the thing. And when the hell had he learned how to use a gun?

The creature crouched down, obviously planning on leaping the distance of the room to attack, but Sam's reflexes were faster. A shot rang out and the thing fell to the ground, a small hole in its forehead oozing blood.

Sensing that the danger was over, Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them he saw Sam looking down at him with a pathetically concerned look on his face.

"Are you okay?"

"Dude, there is no way in hell that I'm okay." His brother chuckled and helped him sit up. Soft crying sounds drew his attention to the corner where the children were still huddled. Dean struggled to his feet and made his way over to them. Crouching down, he forced a calming smile on his face. "Hey, its okay. The bad monster is dead. Just like in the story books, right? See, my brother is like a superhero and now we are gonna get you someplace safe. And no monster will ever attack you again, okay?"

There were nods and a few 'yeah's and one little boy exclaimed "cool".

"Now, is anyone hurt?"

They all shook their heads or said no except for one little girl that reminded him of his own daughter. "I got a booboo on my knee."

Dean examined a small scrape on her skin. "Hmmm. Looks like it could use a kiss, sweetheart." He kissed it and she giggled.

"Dean, let's go."

"Where are we taking them?" Dean inquired.

"We'll call in an anonymous tip to the police once we're gone."

"We can't leave them." He protested.

"The grawlton is dead. They will be fine for the ten minutes it takes for the cops to arrive."

Dean wanted to ask what the hell a 'grawlton' was but there were more pressing matters. "Look at them, Sam. They're terrified. We can't leave them alone. If they were my kids I would want someone looking out for them until I got them back. What if someone else finds them? This isn't the best neighborhood you know."

"Fine." Sam threw up his hand. "You're right. There's a hospital we passed about five minutes from here. We can drop them there."

Dean scooped the little girl up with his right arm, trying to ignore the awful pain coming from his left shoulder. He always put children first and not even bleeding puncture wounds would change that. Besides, they were headed to a hospital and while Sam seemed to be okay except for a possible mild concussion (because Dean had found him pinned to a wall and figured he'd probably been slammed into it none too gently), he figured they should both get checked out.

But that didn't happen. When Sam pulled the Impala up behind the hospital, he let the kids out of the back of the car and instructed them to go inside. After thanking the brothers, they complied, eager to be inside a safe building where their parents could be contacted. Once they were out of sight, Sam started up the engine and drove off.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

"We need to put some distance between us and this town before questions are asked. We're only a few hours away from Bobby's, so I figure we can go there."

"Sam, in case you didn't notice, I'm bleeding."

"I'll get you fixed up when we get there. You won't bleed to death before then."

"Dude, you're nuts! What the hell is going on? Why did you go in there? What was that thing? When did you get a gun? And why the hell are you so calm about all this?"

"Because I do it all the time."

"You kill those whatever-they-ares all the time?"

"No. That was actually the first grawlton I've ever killed, but killing monsters is kinda in my job description."

"You're a lawyer." Dean reminded him.

"Not exactly."

"What do you mean? Do you realize that thing almost killed us?"

"Well, I told you to wait in the car." Sam responded.

"If I did, it would've eaten you. I saved your ass, dude."

"Yeah, I guess you did. Thanks for that." After a moment Sam sighed. "Look, I'll explain everything to you when we get to Bobby's place."

"You better." Dean wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. While he certainly wanted some answers, he wasn't sure that he was gonna like them. Then a thought struck him. "That thing, the grawlton, it's not like a vampire or zombie or anything, is it? 'Cause it bit me and I so don't wanna become one of them."

Sam laughed. "Nah, you're safe. They just like to eat people. Kids in particular."

"Dude sure could jump." Dean commented.

"Yeah, it's been theorized that they are the creature that started the whole spring-heel Jack myths."

"Really? Huh." Dean leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. "I don't suppose you're gonna let me call home yet?"

"Just wait 'til we get to Bobby's."

"Yeah. I figured you'd say that."

_**Author's Note Part Two:** Please review as it makes me very happy!_


	5. Finding Help

**_Author's Note: _**_Thank you so much to Evenmoor, DaughterOfPoseidon333, and lljn105 for your wonderful reviews. They really made my day. I hope everyone continues to enjoy this story._

**Chapter Five: Finding Help**

"Daddy… can I sleep in your room?"

Dean looked down at the little girl staring up at him with pleading green eyes and tried to figure out how parents ever told their children no. He had always sucked at it. Growing up, he had always given in to Sam. He'd spend their grocery money on any crap the little guy begged for even if it meant that he himself would have to go without eating for a day or so. And it seemed that age had not provided him any defense against sad-eyed children. But he had to try to put up some sort of resistance.

"Why don't you wanna sleep in your room, sweetie? It's a very nice room." And he supposed it was… if you were a little girl. Personally, he thought that it looked like a pink and purple bomb had exploded and it made him wonder if other-Dean had a girly side to him or if Melissa had designed the whole room.

"I like your room more."

"Why?"

"'Cause your in it."

And how the hell could Dean say no now. "Come on."

Rebecca jumped from her bed into Dean's arms. He carried her across the hall and into other-Dean's room. He put her down on the bed and waited for her to lie down.

"What bout Nick? If he wakes up lone, he'll be scared."

"We wouldn't want that." Dean wondered if they always shared the bed with their father or if he was just a sucker. "I'll go get him."

Dean left the bedroom and walked into the boy's room. He was currently sleeping in his crib after he'd fallen asleep in Dean's arms while the hunter had tried to calm him down. He'd cried himself into a fit when Dean had scolded him for climbing onto the kitchen table. Dean had taken pity on him when the little guy had begun to wail and grab at his pant legs. Yep, he was a sucker for kids.

Dean gently scooped up the sleeping child and brought him to the master bedroom, where he laid him down on the opposite side of the bed from Becca. He put a pillow near Nick so that he wouldn't roll off the bed. He stood back and smiled at the young girl sitting there. "Goodnight."

"Daddy, wait."

"What?"

"You didn't say it."

"Say what?"

"Bout the angels."

It took Dean a moment to realize what she was talking about. Of course his other self would continue on his mother's traditional goodnight. "Goodnight, Becca. Goodnight, Nick. Sleep well, because angels are watching over us."

"Night, Daddy." The little girl lied down, curled up on her side to face her brother and closed her eyes.

Dean watched them for a few minutes until he was sure they were both sleeping peacefully. After everything he'd been through, it was weird to be saying those words. But it seemed to help the child sleep and she didn't need to know that a lot of angels were just super-powered asses. Of course there was one who wasn't. And he just might be able to help.

Not wanting to wake the kids, he left the bedroom and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He had heard Sam and Jess come home while he was putting Rebecca to bed, but since they stayed in the spare room downstairs and had their own bathroom, he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be disturbed.

"Uh, Cas. Hey if you can hear me get your feathered butt down here right now." Dean waited a moment but received no reply. "Dude, Castiel, you up there? Can you here me. I really need some divine intervention here." When he got no response, he loudly muttered. "Useless angel prick." And not even that got his friend's attention. His Cas must not be able to hear him from this dimension, and alternate Cas either didn't exist, didn't hear him, or didn't care.

With a sigh, Dean pulled the bathroom door open and came face to face with Sam.

"Dude, what the hell!"

"Who were you talking to?"

"Uh, no one."

"I heard you talking."

"You stalking me, now?"

"Dean."

"Dude, I wasn't talking to anyone."

"Really, because it sounded an awful lot like you were calling out to someone named Castiel, who you think is a useless angel."

"Well, then you'd better get your hearing checked." Dean brushed past Sam and headed for the stairs. He really needed a drink.

He was at the top of the stairs when Sam grabbed his elbow. "Dean, Jess told me about your computer search earlier. We were already concerned about your state of mind and now this? This calling to angels thing? What is going on with you? I know it hasn't been easy on you but I think you're getting worse, man."

"Dude, seriously, thanks for the concern but I. Am. Fine." Dean shook his brother's hand off and went down the stairs. Only to stop dead at the sight that met him in the living room. Jess was sitting on the couch with Dean's mom to her left and his dad in the recliner across the room. Dean stared at them, his mouth slightly opened. He'd known they were alive here, but actually seeing them? It was a bit much. His mom looked beautiful, like she had somehow kept her youthful appearance that he'd always remembered but gained more wisdom in her features as well. And his dad… well, the man looked… sane. He was clean-shaven, didn't have a scar on his body, and his face held laugh lines instead of those of worry and hard-living. They were the parents he remembered from when he was four and the sight made him almost want to cry.

The others misinterpreted his stunned silence for anger. "Dean, this isn't an intervention or anything." Sam spoke up. "But we're all very concerned about you."

Mary Winchester stood and started forward, her mouth opened to speak but before she could get a word out, Dean had crossed over to her and enveloped her in a hug. She seemed stunned by the show of affection when she'd obviously been prepared for a very different reaction. She adjusted quickly, though and began to rub his back.

Reluctantly, Dean stepped back just as his father approached and he turned and gave John the same greeting he'd given his mom. He released the older man, taking in the shocked expression on his face.

"It's great to see you guys." The hunter stated truthfully, trying to pull himself back together and act like how his other self would. But he wasn't sure how other-Dean would interact with them. "Uh, but isn't it a little late for a visit?"

"Sam called us, son." John explained.

"He told us you were having trouble. That you were researching the afterlife and spirits." Mary gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, well Jess has a big mouth." Dean mumbled none too quietly.

"Hey!" Both Sam and Jess objected.

"Dude, I told her I'm writing a book. I just needed more info for it that's all."

"And up in the bathroom just now you were trying to call for an angel." Sam spoke as though he was talking with his brother but he had turned to the others as he said it.

"It's called praying." Dean informed him.

"That's certainly not the words they taught us to pray in church."

Dean shrugged. "So, I improvised."

"Honey, why do you think Jess would be an earthbound spirit?"

The hunter turned to stare at his alternate self's mother. She had posed the question to sound like she was concerned about his frame of mind, but Dean read something else on her face. Honest curiosity and a little bit of worry. And not the 'oh, no. my son's crazy' kind of worry. And that's when it hit him. Her family had been hunters here too. And with no demons to screw up her future, she had succeeded in leaving the life behind and raising a normal family. And now she was concerned that her daughter-in-law was a ghost. Relief flooded through the young man. He needed someone to talk with and help him get home. He had briefly considered calling Bobby until he remembered that the older hunter had only gotten into that line of work after his wife had become demon-possessed. So no demons equaled no hunter-Bobby. And after Cas had refused to answer him, he had feared he'd be on his own. But maybe he had just found some help after all.

…

…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…

…

For the second time that day, Dean found himself waking up somewhere other than where he had fallen asleep. This time, the smell of alcohol hit him before he'd fully come back to consciousness. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. He didn't mind a beer every now and then but the whiskey smell here was so overpowering that he felt a little nauseous. He opened his eyes and found himself on an old couch in the living room of someone who seriously needed a house cleaning service. He heard hushed voices coming from the other room and decided to go investigate. As he moved to sit up, the next unpleasant sensation hit him. Pain. His sides felt like they were on fire, but they dulled in comparison to the throbbing coming from his shoulder. Looking down he realized that his shirt had been removed and that there were now bandages wrapped tightly around his ribs. 'Where that creature had clawed you' his slightly traumatized mind reminded him. And the bite on his left shoulder was covered by a large gauze pad and tape. This of course meant that he couldn't try to retreat into denial and blame the whole experience on some crazy dream. Oh, well.

Dean slowly got to his feet and shuffled to the doorway of the room where he'd heard the voices coming from. Inside the messiest study he'd ever seen sat his brother and an older man with a beard and a battered baseball cap. That must be the 'Bobby' his brother had talked with. They were huddled around a desk and too absorbed in their discussion to realize that they now had an audience of one.

"Look, Sam, it don't make a lick of sense. The only ones who've done something like this before were them damn angels and there ain't nothin' for them to gain by doin' this now."

"I know, Bobby. But our Dean must've done something to cause this. This guy doesn't even have a clue about this stuff."

"And yer sure Dean's where this guy came from."

"He's gotta be."

"Not that that's actually yer brother and his brain's messed up."

"I considered that but it doesn't add up. This Dean isn't wearing the same clothes and he has a wedding band on. And you saw him… except for the fresh wounds he doesn't have a mark on him. He claims to have gone to sleep at his home and woken up in the motel with me."

"Dammit. I don't even know where to start."

"If only Cas would get back to me." Sam sighed.

"Well you know he likes yer brother more." Bobby chuckled.

Dean had heard enough. He needed answers. "What the hell are you guys talking about?"

If he'd surprised them, they didn't show it. "Look who's up. Mornin' sunshine." The older man greeted.

"Dean." Sam turned towards him, acting like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "We were just discussing…"

"Yeah, I heard your crazy talk. Perhaps you should lay off the whiskey and rejoin reality for a moment so I can get some answers."

"He's just as pushy." Bobby commented.

Sam sighed. "I know it's hard to understand but monsters, ghosts, demons, and other supernatural creatures all exist."

"Yeah, got that memo. It was carved into my skin not that long ago."

"Well, Bobby and I hunt them down and get rid of them. Along with my brother."

"Dude, I might have helped you earlier, but I'm not making a habit of that. I've got kids to think about."

"I wasn't talking about you." Sam cut him off before he could protest that he was Sam's only brother. "Just listen, okay. You don't belong here. You are from another dimension or an alternate universe, or whatever it's called. My Dean and I ended up in another one not too long ago and now it looks like you and him somehow traded spaces."

"You know you're nuts, right?"

"Just listen to him, ya idjit." Bobby growled.

"Dean, look at me. There has to be some differences in my appearance."

Dean was about to scoff again but something made him stop and do as he'd been told. He looked at his brother. Really looked at him. His hair was longer than it'd been yesterday, he was dressed completely different than usual, there was no wedding band on his hand and there were traces of scars that he was sure his baby brother had never had.

"Oh my god." This wasn't his brother. He entered the room and fell into a chair before his legs went out from under him. This was impossible. But no other explanations came to mind. "So I… I mean he… I mean..."

"I think you broke him." Bobby commented.

"Dean, I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but we're trying to find a way to fix this. We'll get you home and get my brother back."

"But we're gonna need yer help, boy."

Dean turned to face the older man. He was trying to process everything and not lose his mind at the same time. But, under it all, he needed to help fix this… whatever it was that had happened. He needed to get back to his children. "What can I do?"

"We need you to pray for an angel named Castiel to come here and help us. He's a friend of our Dean and I'm sure he'll show if you call him." Sam responded.

"An angel. Talk about friends in high places. Okay. I can do it." He took a deep breath, wondering if the fact that he was starting to just accept everything Bobby and Sam told him meant that he had lost his sanity after all. "Castiel, angel of our great and powerful Lord, I pray and humbly request that you grace us with your presence."

"Dean." A voice spoke behind him. Dean jumped up and spun around, coming face to face with a dark-haired man wearing a trench coat. The newcomer cocked his head to the side. "That was an unusual, although greatly appreciated, prayer for you to say."

**_Author's Note Part Two:_**_ Thank you for taking the time to read and I hope you enjoyed. Please take a moment to review and tell me what you think._


	6. Revelations

**_ Author's Note: _**_Thank you very much to lljn105, Evenmoor, Rainy-Trees, SARA1988, DaughterOfPoseidon333, DimensionJumper, and E for your awesome reviews. I am thrilled that you are all enjoying this ride as much as I am. _

**Chapter Six: Revelations **

"Dean?"

Dean snapped out of his thoughts when he realized that everyone in the room was waiting for him to answer his mother's question.

"I already told you guys, I don't think she's a ghost. She's in heaven, happy for all eternity, playing harps and stuff. I don't even believe in all that ghost crap. I'm just writing a book. That's all"

"Dean," His father started, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else doing anything else. "Look, we've all been talking and we agree that you need help. You admitted to Sam last week that you haven't been sleeping well and we can tell that you're not eating properly."

"And we understand, dude." Sam held up his hands as if to fend off an upcoming attack. "We do. It's been rough on you."

"I know of a very good councilor." Jess offered.

"Dude, not an intervention my ass! You guys seriously think I'm losing it 'cause I'm a little depressed over the death of the love of my life?" Dean felt bad for other-Dean. He knew his family meant well, and that his own behavior had made the situation so much worse, but enough was enough.

"I said that we understand that! And you seemed to be getting better but now this?" Sam exclaimed. "We know that you're not writing a book. And I know what I heard you say in the bathroom a few minutes ago. You're tail spinning, man. We want you to get help."

"We just want you to be okay, honey." Mary Winchester added.

As he turned back the other-Dean's mom, an idea struck him. A way to get out of this craptastic intervention and see if Mary would be able to assist him.

"I know. And you're right. This is hard on me and I should really talk to someone about it."

There was a collective sigh of relief.

"That's great, Dean. Jess can give you the number of…"

"No. I'm not talking to no headshrinker."

"But you just said…"

"I need to talk, yes. But not to some stranger. I was thinking that the rest of you guys can hit the sack while Mom and I have a chat."

Sam seemed about to protest when Mary interrupted. "I'd love to help you, honey, but are you sure I'm the person you need?"

"Mom, you are exactly the person I've always needed."

She smiled at him. "Well, you heard my son. Off to bed with all of you." She turned to her husband. "Go on home. Dean will drop me off when we're done."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, now go." She gave him a long kiss, then stood next to Dean as he watched Sam and Jess wave goodbye and head to their rooms. A minute later the room was empty save for a mother and her eldest son.

They sat down on the couch facing each other. A moment passed as Dean tried to think of a non-crazy way to tell her who he really was. He was saved from the awkwardness when she spoke first.

"What's going on with you, really? You seem… off."

"You believe in restless, earth bound spirits." Dean said it as a statement, not a question.

"Yes."

"You believe in them because your family put them to rest. Among other things. Like, hunting vampires, wendigos, rawheads, succubus, and other monsters."

To her credit, she didn't lose her cool. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you were raised to be a hunter but left it behind to marry John Winchester and start a family. "

Now she did drop the act. "How do you know that? Have you been in contact with your grandfather? I'm gonna kill him."

"As much as I'd love to see that, no he didn't say anything to me. I know all this because I'm a hunter too."

"No." She shook her head. "You can't be. I never wanted my sons involved with that life."

"And they're not." He assured her. "I'm not your Dean. And before you go for a weapon, let me explain. I'm not from this dimension. Where I come from, you were killed by a demon when I was four. Dad got all vengeful and became a hunter. Sam and I were raised to do it too."

"That's not possible. Demons don't come up here. They can't. They were banished by angels long ago."

"And wouldn't that be nice." Dean muttered. "But I did mention an alternate dimension, right? 'Cause where I'm from, they pretty much run wild."

"Other dimensions? I've never heard of anything like that before."

"And now you have." Dean shrugged. He knew he almost had her convinced. "Look at me. Did your son have any of these scars?" He pulled up his shirt. Mary gasped. "Or what about this?" He pulled up his short sleeve to reveal the faded mark of Castiel's handprint. "Look into my eyes and tell me that I'm the son you raised." She stared at him long and hard. Dean shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

After a moment, she pulled him in for a tight hug. "Oh, honey, I am so sorry you had to go through all you've been through."

Dean relaxed into her, accepting the comfort. When he stepped back, they both had tears in their eyes. Dean swiped at his face, a little embarrassed, and hoped his lack of emotional control had gone unnoticed. "I need your help. I need to get home."

"What about my Dean? If you're here, then where is he?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Never really thought about it before. I guess if I'm here…"

"Then he's in your world." Mary's eyes widened in dismay.

"Don't worry. Sam's got his back. I'm sure he'll figure out what's going on and keep him safe until we can fix this."

"And if we can't?"

"We will. I won't leave you son in that crappy life I live. Besides, Sammy needs me and I'm not letting him down by getting stuck here."

His mom laid a hand gently on his cheek. "You seem like a really great brother."

Dean shrugged. "Sam's all the family I got left, so we look out for each other."

"Your father?"

"Demon got him."

"Oh, you poor boys."

Noticing how depressed she sounded, he tried to sound upbeat. "Well, it's not like we're alone or anything. We got our friend Bobby. And then there's Cas."

"The angel Sam heard you calling to?"

"Yep, that's him."

"Your life seems strange… even for a hunter."

"You have no idea."

"Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Everything. We can't do any work on your problem tonight, so why don't you tell me all about your life and I'll tell you about my Dean. It will make it easier for you to fit in and not make my family think that my son should be fitted for a straightjacket."

Dean smiled. "Yeah, sorry about that. But you know, I'd've done so much better if this house wasn't being occupied by the world's nosiest couple."

"They're just concerned. They love Dean and he's been through a rough time."

"What happened?"

Mary sighed sadly. "Dean got sick. He thought it was just a cold so he ignored it. The next thing you know he was in the hospital with pneumonia. His fever was very high and both his lungs were filled with fluid. We thought we'd lose him. The kids were staying with John and me during the day so that Melissa could spend most of the day with her husband. We'd go there early mornings and late evenings. His condition was critical for days before he started to improve. The day before Dean was going to be released from the hospital, I got a call from Melissa. She said she was going to be late picking up the kids because her car ran out of gas and she was going to walk to the gas station nearby. I offered to drive her, but she said it was only a five minute walk from where she was. The next call I got was from the police. Melissa had walked into the middle of a robbery. Both her and the attendant had been shot dead." She paused, blinking back tears. "Dean was a mess after that. I think the only thing that held him together was the children. He forced himself to be strong for them."

"I'm sorry." Dean had no clue what he was apologizing for, it just seemed like the right thing to say. "How did the kids handle it?"

"Rebecca knows that her mommy had to go away and is living with the angels. At first she would ask my son when her mommy would come back home, but I think she has figured out that it isn't going to happen. And Nick… he cried for his mommy for days. Then he just stopped. He didn't speak at all for a long time. He only just started again last week. It's hard on them, but Dean's doing a great job helping them. I just fear he's not taking as good care of himself."

"He'll be fine. Us Dean Winchesters are fighters."

"Which brings me to my questions about your life."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"From the beginning"

"Then this could take awhile."

…

…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…

…

Dean stared into the man's… no the _angel's_… very blue eyes. He didn't look like what Dean had imagined an angel of the Lord would. Then again, he wasn't sure what exactly he had been expecting, but it definitely hadn't been a man in a trench coat. After a couple of seconds, the Castiel's eye turned suspicious.

"You are not Dean Winchester. Your soul is similar, but while it has known sorrow, it is unscarred. What are you and where is Dean?" The angel's voice was low, gravely, and more than a little scary.

"He's from an alternate dimension." Sam stepped up next to Dean, and the older Winchester relaxed with his presence. "We think our Dean is where ever he came from."

Castiel stared at Dean. "Is this your doing?"

"Dude, do you really think I'd choose to come _here_?" Then he realized that his tone was a bit sarcastic for a man speaking with an angel from heaven. "Sorry, I meant no disrespect. It's been a rough day."

"I accept your apology. And what you said makes sense. This must've started from our side not yours." He turned his piercing gaze on Sam. "I know what you are thinking and no, it was not the work of any angel."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Well then, what else can do somethin' like this?" Bobby questioned.

"There is not much that has that kind of power. It must be old and would most definitely have left a mark on Dean."

"Well, Dean's not here to look over for any magic marks."

"Yes, he is." Castiel stared at Dean.

"But you guys all agreed it started with the other Dean." He protested.

"But it has affected you both. Is there any spot on your body that feels strange?"

"Strange how?"

Bobby stepped over, interrupting whatever the reply would've been. "Ya mean like a phantom pain or somethin', right?"

"Yes. Although this Dean Winchester was not the target, he would bear the same transdimensional mark that was inflicted on our Dean to set this all into motion."

"In other words, do ya feel any spot that hurts or itches for no reason?" Bobby asked him.

Dean though about it for a moment. He tried to ignore the pain from his recent injuries and focus on anything else that felt uncomfortable. His attention was drawn to the back of his right hand. There were light fingernail marks on it where he must've been unconsciously scratching at it. Castiel must have noticed as well, because he grabbed the hand and held it up close to his face, studying it intently.

"There is something here."

"What is it?" Dean asked, somewhat fearfully. He hadn't even had any time to come to terms with all that had already happened and now it looked like there was something wrong with him.

"I can find out, but it may hurt you a little."

"I trust you. I mean, you're an angel and all, so do what you have to."

"You have great faith. It is very welcome."

Sam rolled his eyes. "No, Cas, you can't keep him."

Castiel ignored him and touched two fingers to the back of Dean's right hand. Dean cried out as he felt a stabbing, burning pain. The skin broke open in a small puncture wound, which immediately healed over. The veins in his hand seemed to almost glow, then a weird jumble of lighted symbols appeared briefly on the skin before fading away. As soon as the angel released his hand, Dean clutched it to his chest tightly, pain and shock written across his features.

"What… what was that?"

"Very old magic that could only have come from one being."

"You know who did this?" Sam asked.

"Yes. And I know why. It was a rather ingenious plan."

"Ya care to explain it ta the rest of us?" Bobby sounded annoyed.

"I don't know what he calls himself, as we always referred to him as 'the abomination'. He is the child of two human hosts; one demon possessed and one containing an angel at the time of his conception."

"Wait, why would an angel get it on with a demon?" If he hadn't been feeling so lost, Dean would admit that Sam had posed an interesting question.

"That does not matter. The child was born with skin as black as night and a soul to match. We tried to eradicate it, but could not. He is almost immortal."

"Almost?"

"It is said that one day a bloodline would lead to one who could destroy him. The adversary. It is safe to say that the abomination believes that your brother is that man."

"But why go through all this?" Dean asked, finding his voice once again. "I mean, no offense but wouldn't it be easier to just kill him?"

"Yes, but it would disrupt his plans. There is a ritual that will grant him the ability to absorb the power of any demon or angel he touches. But it can only work at a certain time and only if the adversary lives. I do not know the specifics, but now must be the time. And if Dean is not here, there is no one who can stop him."

"We'll find a way."

"Do you really believe than you and Bobby can succeed where all the angels of heaven could not?"

"We have before." Sam shrugged

"Uh, can't you just send me home? If you got your Dean back, it would solve all our problems."

"You are both tied to each others dimension by the magic that exchanged you. The only way to break it is by destroying the one who cast the spell."

"But you said that only the other Dean could do that."

"So let me get this straight" Bobby cut in. "The only way to get our Dean back is to kill the guy that can only be killed by our Dean?"

"Yes."

"Does it have to be the other Dean?" Everyone turned to stare at Dean. "I mean, if it's all about bloodlines, wouldn't I work just as well."

"He makes a very good point." Castiel nodded once.

"No, no he doesn't." Sam argued. "He's untrained and doesn't have a hope of defeating something as powerful as you say this guy is."

"If it's the only way for me to get back to my children, I'm willing to try."

"It's crazy!"

"All of this is crazy!" Dean pointed out. "But we need to do something."

"Cool down." Bobby stepped in between them. "Let's do some research and see what Dean was supposed to do to kill this bastard. Then we'll take it from there."

Both brothers nodded, although they certainly weren't happy.

"I will see what more I can learn as well." Castiel stated before disappearing.

Bobby placed a book in each of the Winchesters' hands. "Let's get started."

**_Author's Note Part Two:_**_ Hope you all enjoyed this. And please, if you don't mind, take a second to review. Thanx._


	7. Battle Plans

**_Author's Note: _**_Sorry for the week long wait. I was possessed by a demon that refused to let me write about the Winchesters. Anyway, I'd like to thank DaughterOfPoseidon333, lljn105, KnightJellyofCamelot, Evenmoor, Sam's folly, and DimensionJumper for their wonderful reviews. _

**Chapter Seven: Battle Plans**

For the second morning in a row, Dean woke up to sunlight streaming through the window and warming him. Of course he was also being kept warm by the two small bodies pressed up to him on both sides. The larger of the two was snuggle up with an arm resting on his stomach and her head buried in his armpit while the smaller one was half on him and nuzzling his neck. Blinking his eyes open, he smiled at the two of them before glancing at the clock. Seven-fifteen am. Damn, he had only slept four hours. Dean shifted uncomfortably. He really had to pee but he didn't want to disturb the children.

So, trying to ignore his discomfort, he thought back to his conversation with his mom. Well, she wasn't really _his_ mom, but it was close enough. He'd given her an abridged version of his life, mindful not to say anything that might get her pissed off at her John Winchester. The man seemed like an okay guy, and Dean certainly didn't want him to have to pay for an alternate version's screw-ups. In the end, he'd told her a lot more about himself than he'd ever intended, but kept some very important stuff to himself. No need for her to know how many times he'd died horrific deaths or to learn about the seriously bad crap he'd been through. And his retelling of his life helped them form a battle plan. Since she'd been away from the fight so long, she had no contacts or resources, except for her father and she was certain he wouldn't help. She said he'd probably just try to recruit Dean. But Dean had mentioned some people who might be of help. So, today Dean was going to take a little trip to visit Missouri Moseley while his mom tried to contact Ellen Harvelle. She was sure that if the woman was the same here as in Dean's dimension, that she has to have heard of the Campbell family. They would try to get as much information as possible and then meet up tonight under the excuse that Mary was once again going to help council her son. Having a plan was making Dean feel a lot better. He couldn't wait to get started, but he'd have to play it carefully to avoid any more suspicion from Sam and his wife.

The little body on his left shifted slightly, putting the little guy's face on Dean's. The boy nuzzled the hunter as he made little sleepy noises. Then, before Dean could react, he felt little, but surprisingly sharp, teeth clamp down on his jaw.

"Ahh!" Dean jumped into a sitting position, Nick falling back on the bed, giggling happily. "Dude, that was not cool, little man! No biting."

Rebecca sat up rubbing her eyes. "Hi Daddy." She mumbled.

"Hey, sweetie. Sorry I woke you. Your brother was trying to eat me."

The little girl put on her most serious face and looked at the little boy, who had gotten on his hands and knees and was crawling into Dean's lap. "No no, trouble-maker." She scolded.

This only made Nick laugh again.

"What do you say we get up and feed the little guy before he eats us both?"

"Yeah, let's go." She jumped off the bed and ran to the door.

Dean got to his feet, scooped up Nick and opened the door. He reached down to take Rebecca's hand at the top of the stairs, but she pulled it away.

"Daddy, I can do it myself."

Dean shrugged and followed her down and into the kitchen. Sam was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper and drinking coffee. A bowl of oatmeal sat untouched in front of him.

"Mornin' Sammy."

"Hey, Dean. How did everything go last night?"

"Fine. I'm gonna meet up with Mom again tonight."

"Good. That's really good, Dean."

"Yeah. Oh, and if Jess doesn't mind watching the kids for a little, I'm gonna go out for a little today."

"Where?"

"Just to see a friend."

"That's great, Dean. I keep telling you that you have to get out more. Reconnect with your friends."

"And see, I'm listening, Sam."

"I'm proud of you, man."

"Dude, really? Could you be more gay?"

Rebecca laughed. "Dude, cuh you be gay?" she parroted.

"Dean!" Sam scolded, while his older brother used a hand to unsuccessfully cover up his laughter.

"What? Gay means happy right?"

"Yeah, Unca Sam." The little girl defended her father.

"Yeah!" Nick joined in.

"Oh great. You're the bad influence but I'm the one getting told off." Sam complained.

After breakfast, Jess arrived back from a morning jog just as Sam was leaving for work. On his way out, the younger Winchester explained to his wife about Dean's plans for the day. They both commented on how good a development this was and how their intervention the night before had turned out for the best as if Dean wasn't standing only a few feet away. Dean then spent the next few hours watching 'educational' cartoons, playing with action figures and giving the children horse rides on his back. Then it was time for lunch followed by walking with Nick for twenty minutes to put him to sleep for his nap. Only once the little boy was sleeping comfortably in his crib and Rebecca was coloring pictures at the kitchen table did Dean tell Jess goodbye and head out the front door.

He pulled the car up in front of Missouri's house and climbed out, locking it behind him. As he made his way up the walk, the front door opened and a familiar woman escorted a well dresses middle aged lady out.

"Don't you worry about anything, hon. Your financial troubles will sort themselves out. These things always do." It looked like some things never changed, even in alternate realities.

Dean made his way to the front door and once the lady had driven off he smirked at Missouri. "I know, people don't come here for the truth, they come for good news, right?"

She looked at him curiously. "And just why do you assume I was saying what she wanted to hear, boy?"

"Let's go inside and I'll explain everything."

But instead of moving to let him in, she continued to stare at him in that see-into-your-soul kind of way that had made him so uncomfortable last time. "There is something very wrong with you." She put her hand on his face. "Oh, you poor child. I have never seen such pain, let alone in one so young."

Dean stepped back out of her reach. "Can we just go inside?"

"Well, if you're gonna be that rude you can turn your skinny butt around and go. But you're right, this is a conversation best kept for private. But if you continue thinking those thoughts I'm gonna toss you back out, you understand."

Dean opened his mouth to reply but was cut off.

"And you watch your language."

Dean sighed. Of all the things to stay the same, why did it have to be this?

…

…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…

…

Dean once again woke to the unpleasant sensation of pain. If this was what his alternate self had to live with on a constant basis, he felt sorry for the guy. He knew he'd never make it in this world. He missed his children, his home, his normal job, and his Sam. This Sam was okay, but he had never wanted to see his baby brother this jaded, not to mention all the scars he seemed to have collected. His Sam might be a nosey little pest sometimes, especially lately due to his concern over Dean, but he was a good kid. Which brought to mind the question of how his little brother was coping with alternate-Dean. He definitely wouldn't believe the truth (and hopefully that Dean hadn't tried to tell him the truth) but there was no way that the differences would go unnoticed by his brother. He wondered briefly if he'd be locked in an asylum by the time he got home. Sam had assured him that his Dean knew how to handle this kind of situation, so he just had to trust… himself.

With a groan, he sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes. He'd stayed up way too late reading books that just a couple days ago he'd have considered to be fiction. They had come up empty so far, but after a quick breakfast, he'd get right back to it. The sooner they figured this out, the sooner he could get home. If he didn't get himself killed first.

He seemed to be the first one up, so he made his way into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. There wasn't much, but he did find some eggs, American cheese, and some thin sliced ham. After making sure none of it had gone bad, he turned on the coffee maker and went to work making breakfast. He hadn't been eating properly since Melissa's death, but he was starving after not eating at all the previous day.

By the time the others entered the room, he'd just finished making the final ham and cheese omelet.

"Damn, that smells good." Bobby commented.

"Dude, I'm surprised you can smell anything over the stench of whiskey and beer."

"Watch it, smartass."

"Why did you make four plates of food?" Sam asked.

"I didn't know if Castiel was going to show up and I didn't want him to be left out if he did." Dean shrugged, then thought of something. "Uh, do angels eat?"

"Oh, yeah. Cas is going to want to keep him." Sam snickered.

"I take it your Dean doesn't treat him very well?" Dean couldn't figure out how anyone could treat an angel of the Lord without respect.

"Dean treats him like he treats everyone else: sarcastically, with a touch of rudeness."

"Oh. So, uh… what's the deal with him? How did he get into this life style?" they took their plates into the study and sat down to eat.

"Our mom was killed by a demon when he was four. Dad raised us to be hunters. The same demon killed him a few years ago, but Dean ganked it a year later. Anyway, we've been doing this our whole lives."

Dean stared at him in shock. He wasn't sure what kind of answer he'd been expecting, but this wasn't it. He couldn't imagine losing his mother at the age of four. And being raised to do this? He thanked God that his life had turned out better.

"How did you guys meet Castiel? Do all hunters work with an angel?"

"Nope, just us. Cas pulled Dean out of Hell."

"Why was Dean in Hell? Wait, do I even want to know?"

"The idjit sold his soul to save this guy." Bobby nodded to Sam.

"Oh." Dean looked between them, trying to determine whether or not they were screwing with him. They both looked dean serious. Not sure how to continue the conversation, he turned his attention to the open book in front of him. He was quite certain he didn't want to know any more about the life that he could've ended up having.

Dean took another bite as he turned the page, then almost choked on the eggs. "Guys, look at this. These are the same symbols that were on my hand, right?"

Bobby leaned over his shoulder to get a look. "Good catch." He took the book out of Dean's hands. "Let's see what it has to say."

The Winchesters watched anxiously as the older man scanned the text. "Is it helpful?" Dean asked.

"Oh, yeah. What we got here is basically instructions for the adversary on the abomination's one weakness." He then looked up at Dean. "Your blood."

"My blood?"

"Yep. When Cas mentioned bloodlines, he was closer to the actual ritual than he thought."

Sam stepped forward. "Dean and I are from the same bloodline. Wouldn't my blood work just as well?"

"No." Came a voice from the corner of the room. They all spun to face Castiel. "Your blood has been tainted since you were six months old."

Dean looked at Sam, the question obvious on his face, but his little brother ignored him. He turned back to the angel. "Have you been watching us?"

"Yes. I had to return to my duties in Heaven but I kept an eye on your situation. I wanted to be ready if you needed my help."

"Great, so _now_ you turn all heavenly-stalker." Sam mumbled.

"What exactly does the text say?" Castiel asked Bobby.

"Just that Dean here has to infect the thing with his blood."

"Well, why don't we take some of his blood and the three of us go inject him with it while Dean stays here nice and safe." Sam suggested.

"No can do." Bobby responded. "Says here that the adversary must infect the abomination by pouring blood directly from his veins into an open wound on the abomination's skin. Guess it needs to be really fresh."

"Dude, that's just gross." Dean made a face. "Not to mention freakin' unsanitary."

"You still okay with this?" Sam asked.

"Okay? No, not so much. But I'll do it."

"Great, now we just have to figure out where he is."

"He will be preparing for the ceremony." Castiel informed them. "If we discover that location, we will know his as well."

"There has to be a specific place?" Bobby inquired.

"Yes, and a specific time."

"Then, I guess it's back to the books."

_**Author's Note Part Two:** Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and if you did (or even if you didn't) please take a moment to review. Thank you so much._


	8. What Comes Next?

_**Author's Note: **Thanks so much to lljn105, sam's folly, SARA1988, KnightJellyOfCamelot, DaughterOfPoseidon333, apester, and moni9576 for your awesome review. I'm very greatful for your support. _

**Chapter Eight: What Comes Next?**

Dean leaned back on the couch waiting for Missouri to say something. He had told her a little about where he came from and how he'd gotten here. It was nice to be able to tell someone the truth and not have to convince them or worry about them thinking he was nuts. With Missouri's unique gifts, she was able to discern truth from lie with no problems. Of course, that didn't mean it was easy to absorb everything.

"Boy, will you stop thinking so loud. It's making it hard to concentrate here."

"Sorry." Dean apologized automatically. He didn't know why, but this woman really intimidated him.

"Now, first off, no knitting needle can transport you anywhere, so I'm gonna assume that was just your impression of it. Let me see that hand."

Dean put his right hand in hers. She pulled off the small gauze pad he'd taped over the wound and examined it. He found himself staring at it too. Although he'd cleaned it out several times, the puncture mark was still inflamed and the surrounding tissue seemed to be even more infected-looking. Dean had been aware of the pain it was causing, but he was so used to ignoring anything that wasn't life threatening that he'd just put it out of his mind. He gritted his teeth as Missouri ran her fingers over it.

"There's some kind of writing, just below your skin."

Dean snatched his hand back. "Dude, you're not opening up my hand to read it."

"Boy, what do you take me for? A butcher? Besides, I can see it already, I just can't read it. But whatever did this to you is very old and very powerful."

"Nah, it was just some skanky demon bitch."

"You watch your language, Dean Winchester. And use your brain while you're at it. Just because a demon's the one who stabbed you doesn't mean it was her weapon or her plan."

"So, she was just a flunky. But to who?"

"I don't know that. It's not like he signed his handiwork. But I can tell you this. The key to getting you home lies with him."

Dean didn't like the sound of that. "But I'm here and he's there."

"Yes."

"Oh hell no! No, I can't just sit on my ass here hoping that Sam and other-Dean can fix this. Hell, neither of them even saw what happened so who's to say they even figure it out? No, there has to be something I can do."

"Not that I can tell. Look, I know these aren't the answers you wanted to hear, but maybe for once you have to rely on someone else to save you."

"Sorry, that's not the way I work."

"Well, there is one thing you can try, but it's not my area of expertise."

"What?"

"A summoning. You can try to call whatever sent you here. If he's powerful enough, he might just hear you."

"But what good would that do? If he sent me here, I don't think he'll let me go home if I just ask him politely."

"Boy, I don't think you're capable of being polite. But to answer your question, a powerful enough medium might be able to open a door between the two worlds if you get a dialogue going between the dimensions. It's a long shot, but still…"

"Great!" Dean thought about Pamela and wondered if she was still doing her thing here in this reality. But then something else came to mind. "Wait, if a door's opened, won't it be two-way? Can this thing and demons and other kinds of crap just walk through into here?"

"Yes. And they will know it's opened."

Dean's shoulders slumped. "Then no. I can't do it." All he could think about was the hundreds of demons that might pour through, all knowing the name Dean Winchester, and the two little, innocent children back at other-Dean's home. He couldn't put his personal agenda before their lives. He couldn't be like his own father. He could never do that to them. He'd have to find another way.

"You're a good man." Missouri offered him a smile.

"Wow, a compliment from you? I think that's a sign of the apocalypse."

"No, but you showing some respect would be."

Dean thought for a moment. "You knew. You knew before you even suggested a séance that I'd never go for it. Why did you even tell me about it?"

"You deserve the truth. But seriously, Dean, you need to have faith in your brother."

"I do. It's just…"

"Hard for you to sit still. Well, you can keep looking for a way to help, if it'll help you. Lord knows I don't know everything."

Dean stood and reached to shake the woman's hand. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. And you leave some kind of message for that other Dean. You tell him to come here and let me know that everything turned out alright."

"Will do."

Dean drove back to the house deep in thought. He needed to get home and he needed to get other-Dean back here with his family. But now he had to consider the fact that any actions he took might put other-Dean's loved ones in danger. Man, he hoped his mother was having better luck. But while contacting the Harvelles was a good idea, he wasn't sure how they'd be able to help. But any lead was better than none, right?

As he pulled up to the house, he let out a groan. Sam was sitting on the front steps, obviously waiting for him. Dean got out of the car and plastered a smile on his face.

"Hey, Sammy, back from work early?"

"It's Sunday. I only went in to consult with one client who couldn't meet with me yesterday."

"Oh, well, no rest for the wicked, right?" Dean tried to go around his brother, but the taller man wouldn't let him pass.

"Dean, we need to talk."

"Dude, again? Didn't we already do this?"

"Yes, but that was before you skipped church this morning and then went to see a psychic."

"First off, I didn't go anywhere this morning because you kept me up late with your first asinine intervention, and secondly, why the hell would you think I visited a psychic?"

"I had Jess tap into your car's GPS."

"Dude, isn't that illegal?"

"I'm concerned about you Dean."

"So you keep saying. Look, Missouri is an old friend. She was a guest speaker when Missy and I were in college. She heard about what had happened and wanted to talk. And before you ask, I didn't tell you because after all that crap you accused me of last night, I knew you'd react poorly to her chosen profession."

Sam studied him, looking for any sign of deception. Luckily, Dean was a master at lying. "Are you sure that's all that's going on?"

"Yes! Dude, can I go in the house now, or do you wanna take me out back and try to torture me into revealing whatever the hell you believe the truth is?"

Sam stepped aside with a muttered apology. Dean knew he wasn't completely convinced and that he'd have to be more careful from now on if he didn't want to end up in a padded room before he could get back home. And wouldn't other-Dean just love to come back to that?

…

…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…

…

Dean sat on the couch trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. He briefly wondered if he was just insane and was imagining all of this. But he knew that wasn't the case and believing so was dangerous. If he couldn't accept the truth he was as good as dead. And he couldn't die. His family was depending on him. He hoped that alternate-Dean would take care of them if anything happened to him, but he really didn't want it to come to that.

"You seem troubled."

Dean gasped as he turned towards the previously empty spot on the couch to see Castiel looking at him.

"Yeah. I miss my kids and well, obviously I'm nervous about the upcoming battle. I mean, I almost got myself killed by some creature yesterday and if I'm understanding everything right, this abomination thing is like a million times more powerful."

"He is yes. But you are the key to ending him."

"No, your Dean is. Isn't that why he went through all this. Because he knows I don't have any hope of winning against him?"

"There is always hope. The abomination did not believe that you would fight. He has already underestimated you. It gives you an advantage."

"I guess. But, dude, this is so seriously screwed up. Bobby thinks that we may have to confront him as soon as tomorrow."

"That makes sense. The abomination would put all of this in motion at the time when his plans were to come together."

"I guess that I just wish I had more time to prepare."

"You have until tomorrow. I will assist in the research to free Sam up to help you train."

"Really? That would be awesome." Dean grinned. "You know, it's pretty cool to have an angel around. These guys are lucky to have you."

Castiel shifted uncomfortably. "That is very kind of you to say."

"Something wrong?"

"No, it is just… I have been busy fighting a war in heaven and working to solidify my power and have not been able to give as much attention to Dean as I perhaps should."

"Dude, you got a lot going on. I'm sure he understands. Besides, it seems like you're always there for him when it counts. And you've helped me now too."

Castiel stood. "Then perhaps we should both begin to prepare for tomorrow."

"Yeah." Dean walked into the study. "Sammy, come on. I need you to teach me how to live through tomorrow."

Sam looked up from the book that was open in front of him. "You know you're not really my older brother, right? You can't just order me around." He smiled to show that he was kidding.

"Hey, what's the fun of being in an alternate dimension if I can't boss around an all new Sammy?"

"What do you want me to show you?" Sam asked, getting up and approaching the shorter man.

"Well, how to shoot for one. I know some hand to hand but I'm sure you know more. And we have to go over a plan and practice how exactly I'm supposed to infect that thing with my blood."

"And all in twenty-four hours? Yeah, this is gonna be easy."

"Hey, I'm a quick study. Seriously, I got a black-belt in no time at all and even graduated from college two years early." He shrugged. "Mom says I just pick up on things fast."

"You went to college?"

"Yeah. Got a teaching degree."

"Wow. Either you are way different than my Dean or he really just didn't apply himself much."

"Well, I suppose if I grew up the way he did normal things like school probably wouldn't seem that important."

"I guess." Sam looked thoughtful.

"And speaking of important things… are you gonna get around to training me sometime before I fight that creature and he kills me?"

"You know, you and my Dean… not so different."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Sorry it's a little shorter than usual but I had to stop here for story telling purposes. Hopefully you all still enjoyed it. Please review and let me know your opinion. Thanks so much._


	9. A Busy Day

_**Author's Note: **I'd like to thank lljn1055, DaughterOfPoseidon333, sam's folly, KnightJellyofCamelot, Nyx Ro, Rainy- Trees, and Apes for your wonderful reviews. It makes my day to know that you are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. And now, only one day after I posted chapter eight... I present chapter nine! Am I awesome or what?_

**Chapter Nine: A Busy Day**

Dean used the tongs to turn the hand-breaded fish fillet over, careful to not yet again burn himself with the hot oil. According to his mother, fried tilapia was one of the kids' favorite meals. He had frozen French-fries heating up in the oven and baby carrots cooking in the pot to his right. And there was a plate of fresh bake oatmeal raisin cookies on the counter. He wasn't doing too badly at this whole pretending to be Daddy-Dean thing. As a bonus, his 'normal' activities seemed to have placated Sam and Jess. They hadn't harassed him about his recent weird behavior for at least a whole hour. Miracles do happen.

"Dean, do you want me to set the table?"

"Sure, Sammy. Make yourself useful for once."

"You really are a jerk."

"I know."

"Daddy, can I help?"

Dean turned to see Rebecca run into the kitchen. "Sure, sweetie. Maybe Uncle Sammy can give you some napkins to put on the table."

"But I wanna help you, not Unca Sammy."

"Well, I've got really hot food here and I don't want you to get hurt. But you know that Uncle Sammy can use all the help he can get. Do you really think he'll be able to set the table all by himself?"

"Okay, Daddy. I'll help him. But I still like you more."

Dean laughed. "Good taste, kid. But we do love Sammy, right?"

"Yep."

Dean took the fish out of the pan and rested it on paper towels to help drain the oil from it. Then he pulled the fries from the oven and dumped them into a large bowl. After transferring the carrots from the pan, he put all the food on the table just as Sam and Rebecca had finished setting out the dinner-wear.

He walked into the living room to see Jess sitting on the couch reading some chick magazine while Nick was stacking wooden blocks as high as he could before knocking them over with a shriek of joy.

"Hey, chow time."

Jess put down the magazine and got to her feet. Nick looked up at Dean with a grin, then went back to playing.

"Hey, little man, food." That apparently was the magic word, because the boy jumped to his feet and ran over to Dean. Taking his hand, the child led him back into the kitchen.

"Foo." He said pointing to the table.

"Yep, food." Dean answered, picking him up and placing him on a chair.

Dinner went well except for the slightly suspicious looks Sam and Jess kept shooting at Dean. Afterwards, he abandoned the two of them to cleanup duty while he retired to the living room to play with the children. He was lying on his back with both kids bouncing on his stomach when the doorbell rang.

Sam opened the door and Mary Winchester walked in smiling at her oldest and her grandchildren.

"Hey, kiddos. You beating up poor Daddy?"

"Just so long as vampire-boy doesn't try to bite me again." Dean muttered.

Both children giggled and pretended to try to bite him. Well, Rebecca was pretending while her little brother was actually putting forth serious effort to chomp down on who he thought was his father.

"Hey!" Dean cried out. "Dude, I said no biting! Go terrorize Grandma."

Both of them obeyed, jumping up and running to greet her.

"Gramma! Did you come to play?"

"Actually I came to talk to your daddy."

"Can we play first?"

"No, Becca." Dean answered looking at the clock. It was well past eight. "It's time for bed."

"Awwww."

"C'mon. Let's go."

Half an hour later both kids were fast asleep in other-Dean's bed and Dean was sitting on the loveseat style swing on the front porch. His mother put her arm around him and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. Dean really missed her in his life. It was hard for him sometimes to remember what it was like to be comforted by a parent. His mother had been gone from his life for twenty-seven years and after her death his father had become more drill-sergeant than parent. It was strange, but nice, to be treated like a well-loved child.

"You're doing great with those kids." Mary informed him. "My son would be happy to know how well you're caring for them."

"They're great." Dean grinned. "A bit of a handful, though."

"They get that from their father." She teased him. "So, did you have any luck today?"

"Nah. Missouri couldn't help. She said that I'd have to wait for my Sammy and your Dean to fix things."

"Well, I may have had better luck."

"Yeah?"

"Ellen says she has something that may help. Her and Jo are driving here and should arrive tomorrow."

"That's great! Wait. They're coming here? What about Sam, what will we tell him? And will it be safe to have the kids around?"

"She assured me that it wasn't dangerous. As for Sam, well, we'll think of something to tell him."

"How about the truth?"

Mother and son turned to see Sam step out from the shadows in the yard near the porch. Dean cursed himself for not being more careful.

"Dude, you really are stalking me aren't you?"

"Cut the crap, Dean. Why are you guys talking like Dean isn't your son?"

Dean and Mary exchanged a look.

"Do we tell him?" Dean asked quietly.

"If we don't, it will put my son in a bad position when he gets back. Trust me, I wish it hadn't come to this, but I don't see another way."

"Dude, he is so not gonna believe us."

"Tell me the truth." Sam insisted coming up onto the porch.

"This isn't your brother." Mary started.

"Are you trying to tell me that Dean is adopted?"

The two older Winchesters burst out laughing.

"Dude, you'd like that wouldn't you? Nope. You and Dean are totally related."

"But he's not the Dean you know." Mary held up her hand. "Please don't interrupt. Think of it like this. Do you remember watching Doctor Who with me when you were younger? There were a couple of episodes where they traveled to other dimensions where one specific point was changed which in turn resulted in things being completely different. Well, this Dean comes from a different dimension and..."

"Mom, you know that Doctor Who is fiction right?"

"I asked you not to interrupt. You're not too old to be grounded if you can't follow simple directions, you know."

"Sorry."

"As I was saying, this Dean comes from a very different world. He got sent here by a demon…"

"Actually, Missouri thinks it's something a lot older and more powerful." Dean commented.

"The whole 'no interrupting' thing goes for you too."

"Sorry."

"Anyway, your brother is in the place where this Dean comes from. This Dean's life is much harder and our Dean is in real danger there. We are trying to find a way to switch them back."

"Yeah, sure. So what's the real truth?" Sam was smiling until he saw their expressions. "You guys are serious?"

"Yes." Mary said.

"You're nuts. Both of you."

"Dude, don't make me show you all my scars that your Dean doesn't have."

"What?"

Dean lifted up his shirt to reveal his marred skin.

"So? That proves nothing."

"Sure it does. Did your Dean have scars like that?"

"How the hell should I know? I don't exactly go around trying to see him, I mean you, when you're naked!"

"And thank God for that." Dean muttered. "But seriously, these are claw marks. Why would an auto shop teacher have claw marks? Or bullet wounds? Or a burn in the shape of a freakin' handprint?" Dean revealed Cas' mark on his shoulder.

Sam shook his head. "No. This is crazy. You're crazy. This is some sort of breakdown from Melissa's death. Pretending to be someone else as a way to distance yourself from the pain."

"That psychology stuff is crap and you know it. And if I had lost it, why would Mom be backing me up with this?"

"I don't know?"

"Because it's the truth." Mary stated.

Sam ran his hands through his hair. "But… no. I don't believe in alternate dimensions."

"Too bad. 'Cause here I am."

"No. You're having a mental breakdown…" He pointed at Dean, then turned towards their mom. "… and you're humoring him for some reason."

"No, Sam." Mary denied gently. "Remember when you were a teenage and you wrote that paper for school about how the possibility of infinite dimensions was backed by science. It got you an A if I remember correctly."

"But that was just in theory."

"And sometimes theories get proven."

"No." Sam repeated, but this time there was no conviction in his voice.

"Tomorrow, when our company arrives, have Jess take the kids out somewhere. You can stay. We will be trying to get this Dean home and our Dean back. If after that you still think we're crazy, Dean and I will visit a councilor of your choice. Is it a deal?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really, Dude." Dean answered.

"Okay, then."

Mary smiled. "Good. Now let's all get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

…

…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…

…

Dean aimed the gun at the target and squeezed the trigger. He winced yet again at the loud sound and the kickback. Then he fired again. And again. When the gun was empty he lowered it and looked at the target. Every shot he'd taken had left a hole in the painted wood. Perfect.

"You really are a fast learner." Sam clapped him on the back and nodded his approval.

"It's not that hard." Dean shrugged. "It's actually a little easier than that archery course I took at summer camp."

"Well, I don't think you want to go up against the abomination with a bow and arrow."

"True."

"So, if you're confident in your marksmanship, why don't we move on to the hand to hand stuff? You're going to need to get close to him if you're planning on bleeding on him."

Dean handed the gun over to the younger man. "How exactly am I going to accomplish that anyway?"

"I'm thinking the best plan would be to take him by surprise. Cas, Bobby, and I will engage him and try to keep him distracted. You sneak in and hide somewhere. When he's close to your position, you cut yourself with a knife then try to tackle him. It should be easy if he doesn't see you coming. By then, the rest of us should've already wounded him and all you have to do is get your blood in his."

"Dude, you make it sound so easy."

"It won't be. But we can do it."

"You don't think I can, do you?"

"I just said…"

"I know what you said, but I heard the doubt in your voice."

Sam sighed. "Look, it's just… this guy's really powerful and you're not a hunter. Something tells me he'd give my Dean a run for his money. But that doesn't mean we can't win this."

"I know we can." Dean insisted. "Because I sure as hell am not gonna die in some crappy alternate reality where I'll never get to see my children again. That's just not gonna happen."

Sam smiled. "Then let's get back to training. You go hide somewhere in the area. I'll walk through and you try to take me by surprise."

"Let's do it."

Hours later, Dean lay on the couch reflecting on the fact that he'd never been in so much pain in his entire life. Sam hadn't gone easy on him and he now had several bumps and bruises in addition to the injuries he'd gotten the previous day from the grawlton. He'd taken some pain meds and was now trying to get some rest. There would be more training tomorrow up until sundown. Then Castiel was going to transport them all to right outside the building where the abomination had set up shop.

Dean was scared. He was trying not to show it to the others because he knew that they already doubted his capabilities and didn't want to show any weakness in front of them. But he was scared. The only other fight he'd had with a supernatural creature had almost cost him his life and this would be a million times worse. Dean also knew that a lot was at stake. Not just his life and a way to hopefully get back home, but the fate of this world as well. If the ritual was completed, the abomination would gain such power that he'd be unstoppable and Dean severely doubted that he'd use that power for the good of mankind. This knowledge put a very uncomfortable weight on his shoulders. Between that and the fear, he felt like he was suffocating. He wondered how alternate-Dean lived like this everyday.

"Can I getcha anything?"

Dean turned his head to face Bobby. "No thanks."

"Ya sure? You look like you could use a drink."

"Probably could, but tomorrow's gonna be difficult enough without a hangover."

"Suit yerself."

There was a brief silence.

"Hey, Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think our chances are tomorrow?"

"'Bout a million ta one. But we've had worse and come out on top."

"But you had your Dean with you then."

"You think yer not up for it?"

"Didn't say that."

"Good. 'Cause you got enough of him in ya to win this thing."

"You think so?"

"I said it, didn't I?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"No problem, boy. Now stop yer whinin' and get to sleep." Bobby smiled to soften the words. "We got us a busy day tomorrow."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope everyone enjoyed. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Thanks._


	10. Last Minute Preparations

_**Author's Note: **First I would like to thank ESwan, Nyx Ro, sam's folly, DimensionJumper, agent iz hyper, Heartless BytchhakaHelenBach1, lljn105, DaughterOfPoseidon333, KnightJellyOfCamelot, and moni9576 for their wonderful reviews. It really means a lot to me that people take the time to let me know their thoughts on this story. I hope you all continue to enjoy this. And sorry for the week long wait, but I hope it's worth it._

**Chapter Ten: Last Minute Preparations **

Breakfast that morning was probably one of the most uncomfortable meals Dean had ever sat through. Sam was no longer looking at him like he was crazy but now seemed almost afraid of him. And really, who could blame him? A full night of contemplation had seemed to convince the younger Winchester of the truth but now that he had accepted that this wasn't his brother, he obviously didn't know what to make of him. Jess had apparently misinterpreted her husband's mood and was now convinced that Dean was on a one-way trip to the funny-farm. Dean himself was nervous about how the day was going to turn out and was trying to ignore the looks the others kept shooting him. Rebecca had picked up on the sour mood and was trying to share her Lucky Charms cereal with everyone to make them smile. Only Nick seemed to be happy, at least until he ran out of marshmallows.

Dean watched the kids, feeling a little depressed. While he knew he needed to get back home, he was really going to miss the little guys. He knew that realistically there was little to no hope of him ever having children of his own (and he really didn't want to mix innocent babies into the life he led anyway) but spending so much time with these two and being a dad to them made him wish his life could've been different. Dean shook his head. No. This was something he could never have. And in a little while he'd have to tell the kids goodbye for good.

That moment came sooner than he realized. Sam had stayed home from work, telling Jess that Dean had agreed to speak with a councilor that would be stopping by later and that he wanted to be there for his brother. Jess had agreed to take the kids out after lunch and would return only after Sam called to let her know everything was okay. She seemed a little suspicious but, so long as she went along with the plan, Dean didn't give a damn how she felt.

So, around one o'clock, Dean stood by the front door, trying to say goodbye to the children. He crouched down and Rebecca threw her arms around his neck.

"Bye, bye Daddy. I'll miss you."

"Me too, sweetie. You be good, okay? I love you." He gave her a kiss and when she stepped back Nick immediately took her spot. "Bye, little man."

"Baa, baa."

"I love you." He kissed the boy, then blinked back the tears that were trying to escape his eyes. And just what the hell was that all about? He was Dean Winchester. He certainly wasn't gonna cry over saying goodbye to a couple of kids that weren't even really his own. Yet apparently that was just what he was doing.

Dean stood and watched Jess leave with the children. He waved to them until the car pulled away and drove out of sight. Then he turned and walked back into the house.

He walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. He'd restrained from drinking before because he didn't want to do it in front of the kids or give the adults more ammunition to use against him in the whole 'Dean's crazy' debate. But now that it was just him and Sam it really didn't matter. He flopped down on the couch, put his feet on the coffee table and downed half the bottle in one gulp.

"Wow." He heard Sam comment. "You really aren't my brother."

"How's that?"

"That bottle would last him at least half an hour." There was a pause. "So, what happened to you? I mean, why are you covered in scars and able to drink beer like it's water?"

"Tough life." Dean shrugged, not really wanting to tell his life story yet again. He also felt the need to protect Sammy from the truth.

Sam wasn't having it. "What's that mean?"

"Where I come from a demon killed Mom when I was four, I was raised to hunt evil crap, took care of you, Dad got killed by the same demon a few years ago, I ganked said demon, went through hell, and we're still spending our time killing evil son's of bitches. End of story."

Sam stared at him in shock. His mouth opened and closed a few times but he couldn't seem to get any words out.

"Aren't you glad you asked?" Dean smirked.

"Wait, my brother… he's in that place with all those evil things, right?"

"Yep, but don't worry. He's with my Sam. He'll be fine. And hopefully tonight we can get me home and get your brother back to you."

"Why do you want to go back to that life?"

Dean shrugged. "Because it's mine. 'Sides I'd miss Sam and Bobby and I'm sure as hell not gonna leave them with an auto shop teacher to watch their backs."

Before Sam could respond, the front door opened and Mary walked in. "I just got a call from Ellen. Her and Jo should be here within an hour. How are you boys doing?"

"I just broke Sam's brain by telling him the truth."

"Dean, be nice to your brother." She scolded him. "Sam, are you having an easier time today?"

"Well, I was just starting to wrap my head around the whole alternate dimension thing and then he hit me with talk of demons and evil hunting and stuff like that."

"He asked." Dean interjected.

"Anyways, I guess it's just a bit much. How are you taking this so well?" Sam asked his mother.

"I knew about the supernatural long before this guy came around. I'll tell you all about it when this is over. But I do have to confess that the existence of other realities took me by surprise."

"You get used to it." Dean commented. He got up and went to get another beer.

He was on his fourth when a knock came at the door. Mary opened it and let the other two women in. Dean couldn't help but stare at them. Images of them right before their deaths played through his head over and over and he thought for a moment that he was going to be sick.

"And you must be Dean."

Dean looked up and realized that Ellen was standing right in front of him. He nodded his head, trying to find his voice.

Ellen looked him up and down. "Well, I have to say that I've never met a hunter from another dimension before."

"Don't be fooled. Not everyone from my dimension's as good looking as me."

"Too bad." Jo commented. "I was going to start planning a vacation there."

"Trust me, sweetheart, not a great vacation spot." Dean favored her with a grin. "So, you girls hunters then?"

"My husband's the full-timer." Ellen informed him. So, Bill Harvelle was still alive here. It made sense. In Dean's reality he'd died helping John on a hunt, so if John wasn't a hunter here, then that never would've happened. "I run the bar and occasionally help out. And Jo here joins us when she's not too busy."

Dean turned to look at the younger woman. She shrugged. "Being a paramedic and online college courses take up a lot of time."

"Wow, someone's ambitious." Dean commented.

Jo smiled. "Well, I'm certainly not going to make a living out of hunting. I mean, no offense."

"None taken. I mean, hunting's a crap job. Long hours, no pay, tons of travel with no compensation, and if there was ever a job that needed health benefits but didn't have 'em…."

Jo laughed. Dean really missed that sound. "Well, consider me your health benefits for this job."

"Well, at least the nurse is hot."

Jo blushed and Ellen loudly cleared her throat. Dean gave her his best winning smile in the hopes of getting out of the conversation alive.

Ellen shook her head. "You just be glad that Bill isn't here with his shot gun."

"Mom." Jo protested, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, you are normally the first one to protest when hunters start using those kind of lines."

Jo looked back over at Dean. "Yeah, but… he seems okay."

Ellen shook her head. "Okay, Mary, let's get started. I want this boy back in another dimension as soon as possible." Everyone laughed a little at that. "Jo, honey, you take that okay boy and go get the stuff from the car. We gotta have everything set up and be ready for when the sun goes down."

"Sure, Mom. C'mon Dean." She turned and went back out the door, Dean close behind. When they were outside she continued talking. "So, do we know each other where you come from? I mean, you have to have if you were able to tell your mom about us."

"Yeah, we've met."

"What's other-me like?"

"Well, not as ambitious as you. Her dad… wasn't around anymore and she wanted to feel closer to him so she was a little more into the hunting scene."

"Was? Did she get out of it?"

Dean didn't answer.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"My… I mean her mom?"

"It was a rough job."

"You were there?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

There was silence as she took some bags out of the car and handed some to Dean. "Do you miss her?"

"Yeah, but look, can we just not…"

"Okay, yeah. Sorry."

Another silence.

"So… paramedic?"

"Yeah, thought I could get a decent paying job where I could help people. And you wouldn't imagine how useful it is to some of the hunters in the area. As I'm sure you know, you can't always go to the hospital with some of the job related injuries."

"Great, I'm sold. Can I take you with me?" Dean grinned, the seriousness of the previous moments completely gone.

"Do you _want_ my mom to kill you?"

…

…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…

…

Dean put his foot on his opponent's throat and aimed the gun at his head. "You're dead."

A moment passed and then he stepped back and reached down to help Sam to his feet. The younger brother winced a little as he stood and then smiled.

"That was good. Very good. I didn't even see or hear it coming. And that karate move was pretty cool."

"Thanks." Dean was tired, but feeling a little more confident in his ability to survive the upcoming battle. He figured his chances were now one in a thousand instead of one in a million.

Sam brushed himself off. "We only have a few more hours. We should probably go and rest a bit so we'll be ready."

"Dude, you just don't want me to kick your ass again."

"You may have learned some tricks, but you couldn't take me down in a fair fight." The words had no sooner left his mouth and Sam was back on the ground with Dean standing over him grinning.

"Who said anything about fighting fair?"

Sam reached his hand up. Dean grabbed it to help him up, but the next thing he knew, he was on his back with Sam kneeling over him. "Two can play that game."

"Okay, okay, I give." But when Sam shifted to let him up, Dean used a move to flip them over so he was on top. "Or not."

Sam brought his feet up and kicked him off. Both boys were now lying on the ground outside Bobby's house staring up at the sky.

"So who kicked whose ass?" Sam asked.

"I kicked yours first." Dean answered.

"I kicked yours harder." Sam shot back.

"Hell no. And by the way, real mature."

"I learned from you. Well, you know, not _you_ you, but my you. You know what I mean."

"Dude, I don't think anyone knows what you mean." Dean propped himself up on his elbows so that he could see Sam. "Did you learn from him? I mean, my Sammy followed me around a bit when we were younger and had the whole hero worship thing going for a while. Did you and your Dean have that kind of relationship?"

Sam mirrored his position so they were facing each other. "My Dean pretty much raised me. Our dad was always busy hunting and would leave us alone in motels for sometimes weeks at a time. Dean taught me to walk, talk and to read, he made sure I always had food and clothes, he played with me, he helped me with homework, he did everything for me when we were little. To this day I don't think he's realized that he doesn't have to take care of me anymore."

"So, Dean raised you?" It was a weird thought. His parents had taken care of him and his brother so well when they were young. Sam had gotten more of their father's attention while Dean had definitely been their mom's little boy. But in the end they had been well cared for and loved by both parents. The idea of being the one responsible for raising his brother seemed foreign.

"Yep."

"So who raised Dean?"

"Dean."

"Oh. Well that sucks."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. But he handled it well."

"You miss him."

"Don't you miss your brother?"

"So are we gonna just sit here crying about it or go get ready to get our brothers back?"

"That's just what I was gonna ask you ladies." The boys turned to see Bobby approaching them. "C'mon. Cas wants to get there early to stake the place out. So, get yer butts off the ground and get back in the house. We only got us a few minutes before we're outta here on the angel express."

Dean stood and brushed off his clothes (actually they were a spare set that belonged to alternate-Dean, complete with boots) and followed after the older hunter. He was as ready as he was going to be. Now all that was left was to win the upcoming battle and get home. Easy as pie.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope everyone enjoyed. Action heats up in the next chapter! Please leave a review if you can. I really do appreciate them._


	11. Show Time

_**Author's Note: **Many thanks to Evenmoor, lljn105, sam's folly, DaughterOfPoseidon333, sara1988, agent iz hyper, ESwan, and KnightJellyofCamelot for your fantastic reviews. And thank you everyone for sticking with this story this far. A few more chapters to go. Hope you enjoy. _

**Chapter Eleven: Show Time**

Dean looked at the items spread out over the coffee table and felt anxious to get started. Ellen had told him that most rituals worked best after sundown, but he was getting impatient. He also had to admit, but only to himself, that he was nervous that it wouldn't work. That he'd be stuck in this perfect world that wasn't his. He felt that if he had to see two wonderful children, living parents who loved him, Ellen and Jo, and other perfect things that could never really belong to him for much longer, he was going to go insane with grief. Dean just wanted to get back to his own crappy life where he could bury all of his emotions and try to forget his failures.

"Are you alright?"

Dean looked up to find his (no she wasn't his) mom standing next to him. "Yeah, everything's great."

"If that's the best lying you're capable of it's no wonder Sam knew something wasn't right."

"Nah, I could do better, just don't care to right now."

"You're tired."

"Didn't get much sleep last night."

"I meant emotionally."

"My emotions are wide awake, thank you."

Mary smiled sadly. "This is hard for you isn't it."

Dean was about to blow her off with another wise ass comment, but one look in her eyes changed his mind. She was giving him the same kind of look she used to when he was little and had had a nightmare or was bullied at the playground. A look of understanding and unconditional love. The look of a parent.

"You have no idea."

"No, I don't. Nobody does, do they. Something tells me you don't open up to people much."

"You could say that."

"You know you can talk to me, right?"

"Thanks, but…"

"Maybe I shouldn't have posed it as a question. You really should talk to someone. You carry a lot on your shoulders, I can see that. And it's not just related to this situation."

"Yeah, well, not a fan of the chick flick moment. No offense."

"Talking to your mother is not a 'chick flick moment'. And before you say it, yes I am your mother. Because you're Dean, and any Mary Winchester would be proud to call you her son."

"How can you say that? I'm a hunter. I know you never wanted that for your kids and…"

"You're right, I didn't. But I don't blame you for how your life turned out. You seem like you've done the best anyone could hope to do under the circumstances. I'm proud of you, Dean. Any mother would be lucky to have a son like you. Don't ever forget that."

"I'm going to miss you, mom. Actually, I don't think I've ever stopped missing you." Dean fought to control his voice from breaking as the tears welled up behind his eyes. Mary pulled him into a tight hug. After a moment, the young man pulled back and swiped the tears from his face. "Damn, I have got to get outta this place. It's turning me into a freakin' girl."

"Even grown men are allowed to have emotions. Especially when confronted with loved ones they've lost."

Dean's response was cut off as the others entered the room. Falling apart in front of his mother was one thing, but he'd book another stay in Hell before he'd show weakness in front of Sam, Ellen, and Jo.

"Okay, we should get started." Ellen spread a plastic table-clothe on the floor and gestured for the items to be brought to her. She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and unfolded it. Then she picked up the chalk and carefully copied some elaborate symbols onto the sheet of plastic she was kneeling on. Dean waited until she was done before questioning her.

"So, how do you know this crap?"

"Sometimes my customers rack up quite the bar tab and ain't got the cash to pay it off. So I sometimes accept rare occult items in lieu of payment. Nothing dangerous, just stuff I can sell to other folks. This one guy had this," She held up a small perfume bottle full of liquid. "And the instructions on how to use it. Said something about being able to once again see your home when you're too far away to get there by any earthly means. Figure this situation is as close to that description as we'll ever get. Why not give it a try? Besides, the instructions talk about an open wound left behind on the one who's far from their home, and your mom says that fits."

Dean nodded, glancing down at his bandaged hand. Thing hurt like all hell and he was avoiding looking at it because he knew that if the infection got much worse he'd have to get some kind of medical treatment for it. With the way his luck worked, he'd probably lose his freakin' hand.

Ellen turned her attention back to the set up. She arranged small candles at certain spots on her chalk drawing. After that was done she poured a circle of salt around the whole thing. Dean didn't know whether that was part of the ritual or just a precaution. Then she once again turned to the hunter.

"I need some dirt from your home."

"Yeah, 'cause I keep some in a Ziploc in my pocket just in case."

"Scrape some from your boots or the clothes you had on, smart ass."

"Oh, yeah." Dean felt like a complete idiot, but covered by pulling out a knife and gouging the dirt from the treads of his boots. He handed it to Ellen and she placed it in a small plastic container.

"Okay. Jo, cut the lights. Dean sit right here. Everyone else stay back. I'm not sure exactly what's going to happen."

Dean sat cross-legged on the table-clothe, careful not to touch the chalk drawing or knock over the candles. Ellen held his right hand in hers and gently unwrapped the bandages. The wound looked awful. The skin around the puncture mark looked almost rotted and the veins were red and infected. Ellen gasped at the sight. Then she regained her composure and looked at the others.

"We're going to start now and if we're successful, this young man's going home. So if anyone wants to say goodbye…"

Mary approached him and gave him a hug. "Take care of yourself, Dean. Remember what I said."

Dean nodded.

Sam was next. "Hey, uh… look, sorry I was kind of hard on you. It's been a really strange few days, but I do wish you the best."

"Thanks, Sammy. Just remember not to harass your Dean too badly when he gets back."

"I'll do my best. And you know, you really should consider settling down and starting a family. You did great with the kids. Dean'll be pleased they were so well cared for."

Dean gave him a nod. He knew a family wasn't in his future, but he was happy he'd been able to be a part of this one for a little while.

Jo sent him a little wave. "It was nice meeting you. Don't get yourself killed any time soon."

"I'll try not to, but no promises."

"Are we ready?" Ellen asked.

"Let's go."

The female hunter lit all the candles and then began to read from the paper in a language that Dean didn't recognize. When she finished, the candles all flared for just a second.

"Reach your injured hand out, palm down."

Dean did as he was instructed. Ellen opened the small perfume bottle and poured the contents into the open wound.

_Great._ Dean thought. _If it wasn't going to need to be amputated before, it sure as hell will now._ Then all thought was eradicated by a terrible pain. He bit down on his tongue to stop himself from screaming. He didn't want to frighten Ellen into stopping. He needed to see this through. Then, just as he thought that it couldn't possibly feel any worse, Ellen turned his hand over and forced it down onto the flame of a candle. This time Dean couldn't contain the cry of agony. Still holding his hand in place, Ellen sprinkled the dirt from his boots into his palm and closed his fingers around it. The pain traveled up his arm, and when Ellen released him, Dean fell back onto the ground. The sensation felt similar to his confrontation with demon-skank and her magic knitting needle, but also somehow different. Dean opened his mouth to say as much, but that was when the first convulsion hit him. He heard the others call out in fear and his name was repeated over and over but he couldn't respond. His body just kept shaking and jerking until everything went dark and silent.

…

…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…

…

Travel by angel was one of the weirdest experiences Dean had ever had and considering his last few days that was saying a lot. One moment he had been standing in Bobby's living room and the next he was in an alley outside of a rundown building. He blinked and shook his head to clear his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he glanced at the others. This was it. No turning back now.

"Okay, boy, we go in and create one hell of a distraction. Give it a minute and you come on in quietly." Bobby instructed him.

"Dude, we've gone over the plan a million times. I got it. Just go and don't get your butts killed before I can take this abomination guy down."

"Ya sure he ain't our Dean?" Bobby chuckled.

Sam placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. "You'll do fine Dean."

"Thanks, Sammy."

Castiel merely nodded at him, then placed a hand on each of the other men's shoulders before they all disappeared.

Dean waited for what he figured was a minute and then opened the door. As he stepped in he heard the sounds of a fight coming from his left. He walked quietly down the cement steps, keeping an eye out for anyone nearby. At the bottom of the stairs, he continued past the open fire door and followed the sounds of struggle down the hall and to his right. He slowed even more as he approached an open door. He crouched down and glanced into the large room, looking for a decent hiding spot. The center of the room had been cleared except for some sort of alter, but plastic covered furniture was stacked all around the perimeter. That would do just fine. Before he could act, however, the confrontation near the alter caught his eye. Sam and Bobby were fighting four people that had remarkable strength and black eyes (demons, they had to be demons) and Castiel, really powerful angel of the Lord, was crumpled on the ground at the feet of a man with midnight-black skin.

Dean pulled his head back around the corner and out of sight. This was so not good. They had told him this thing would be powerful, but it had taken out a freakin' angel! How the hell was he going to survive this?

"Get a grip, Dean." He whispered to himself. "You can do this. Actually, you're the only one who can do this. So, get your ass in gear and stop talking to yourself like some mental patient, and let's do this thing."

Keeping low, he darted into the room and behind a desk. Dean figured he hadn't been seen when no one called out in alarm at his presence. Quietly, he circled the room, trying to get as close as possible to the abomination. Boy did that guy need a name.

Dean stopped when he reached a gap in the furniture. He snuck a quick look out at the fight. One demon lay dead (or at least he assumed it was dead… do demons die?) on the ground and Sam was stabbing another in the stomach. Some slutty-looking demon chick was standing in between the abomination and the battle, while the last demon was trading punches with Bobby. While part of Dean (the crazy kamikaze part) was tempted to join in to help his new friends, he knew what his role in the fight was and he had to be alive to do it. And since everyone was distracted, now was the time to move. Taking to his hands and knees, Dean crawled quickly to hide behind a bunch of file cabinets that were stacked on their sides. This was as close as he could get. Now he just had to wait for an opening.

Dean was just about to glance around the corner to see what was going on when a voice spoke up from behind him.

"Dude, you've gotta be freakin' kidding me!"

He spun around and looked up to see what appeared to be a ghost-like version of himself staring back at him.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Now there's a great way to leave this... so long as no one kills me for this cliffhanger. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks._


	12. Talking to Myself

**Author's**_** Note: **First off, I'd like to thank Julefor, apester, KnightJellyofCamelot, Evenmoor, ESwan, DaughterOfPosideon333, DimensionJumper, Heartless BytchhakaHelenBach1, sam's folly, and SylarTookMyPower for their wonderful reviews. Your support is one of the reasons this story has succeeded. And now on to the chapter!_

**Chapter 12: Talking to Myself**

Before Dean even opened his eyes he realized that he was feeling so much better. His hand no longer hurt and the seizures had mercifully stopped. But the sounds around him had also changed. Instead of concerned voices calling his name, he now heard the sounds of some sort of battle. Well, that settled it. The spell must've worked. He was home.

Dean turned his head to the side as he opened his eyes and saw Cas lying unconscious on the ground. Looming over him was a sinister-looking guy with skin that was pitch-black. Everything about him just screamed 'evil mastermind douche-bag'. Not too far from him was demon-skank. They were both in front of some sort of alter, but before Dean could get a better look at it, Sam's boots almost crushed his head. The older brother rolled out of the way and jumped to his feet.

"Dude, watch it!"

Sam didn't even acknowledge him. He seemed to be too busy pulling some tough-looking biker-type demon off of Bobby. In the scuffle, Sam dropped his knife. Dean dove forward to grab it, but his hand passed right through the hilt.

"What the hell?" Dean looked at the offending appendage and realized that he could almost see through it. He stood, looked down at himself, and saw that his whole body was slightly transparent, as though he were not quite real. Not quite here. He waved his arms around, but no one took any notice of him. Dean was sure he hadn't died, so he couldn't be a ghost, but what the hell was going on.

The spell. Either something had gone wrong or it was only intended to allow him to (what was the wording again? Right.) see his home when he was far away but not to actually get there. Freakin' magic. Just another reason to hate that hocus-pocus crap. Because just what the hell was he supposed to do now.

Then out of the corner of his eye he saw some movement behind the plastic covered furniture that was lining the perimeter of the room.

"Better go check it out." Dean muttered under his breath. "Not like I can do anything else."

He walked right through the barrier and turned to see a figure crouched down, getting ready to peer around the corner of the piled cabinets. The person had his back to him, but Dean knew who it was immediately by the haircut and the very familiar clothes.

"Dude, you've gotta be freakin' kidding me!"

The other version of himself spun around and looked at him with comically wide eyes.

"What the hell?" he whispered.

Dean blinked in surprise. It seemed that other-Dean could see him even though no one else did. But while this was an interesting turn of events (and really what in his life wasn't), there was a bigger issue to be addressed. "I should be asking you that. What was Sammy thinking, bringing you to a fight?"

"Keep your voice down. I'm kind of hiding here, if you hadn't noticed."

"Hey, everyone! Wanna-be hunter hiding right here!" Dean yelled. Other-Dean's face paled. "Dude, chill out. Seems you're the only one who can see or hear me."

"Great, so you're just a little bit of an ass-hole instead of a big one." Other-Dean hissed at him.

"Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"I'm… I mean, you… well, _we_ are the only ones that can stop this guy."

"You mean Mr. Charcoal-butt over there."

"Yeah, he's called the abomination. He's the love-child of an angel and a demon."

"Now, that's one jacked-up couple. I'd hate to be their marriage councilor."

Other-Dean chuckled. "Castiel says he's really powerful and that according to prophesy, only the adversary can defeat him. And that's us."

"Well, I'm here now, so you keep here outta trouble and stay safe. You gotta stay in one piece so we can get you back home."

"That's a great idea. I'm sure you'd be really helpful in a fight right about now." Other-Dean whispered back, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "Besides, I doubt you're ghost-ass can bleed."

Oh, right. He'd forgotten that he couldn't touch anything, let alone fight fuglies. "Okay, point taken. But you know, the whole not bleeding thing is a good idea."

"Not really. Apparently, the blood of Dean Winchester is the only thing that can kill the abomination."

"Dude, that's one screwed up weakness."

"Yeah. I'm a little weirded out by the whole 'I'm carrying some sort of blood-born pathogen for evil bastards' thing."

"Dude, just be glad it's not a STD."

"That's just wrong, dude."

Dean looked out at the battle. Two more demons had joined the fight, but Sam and Bobby were still holding their own. Boy did he wish he could go out and help them.

"So what's the plan?"

"I get close to the abomination and once he's injured I cut my hand, jump out of this hiding spot and mix my blood into his."

"That plan sucks."

"You got a better one?"

"No." Dean shrugged. "But what if you're seen?"

"That's why I'm being careful to stay out of sight."

"Hey, I could be your look out. I'll just stand here and let you know when it's time for you to start your suicide run."

"Gee, thanks for the support. But that's actually a pretty good idea."

"Hey, I may not have a college degree, but I know how to come up with some pretty awesome battle plans."

They were both silent for a moment. Dean kept glancing from the fight back to his alternate self. He was impressed with the guy. Must've taken guts to jump into something like this. But Dean also understood why he was doing it. He'd bet good money that Charcoal-butt was the freak behind the whole dimension mix-up and ganking him would be the only way to fix it. Dean knew that if he himself had kids, he'd do anything at all to get back to them. Which reminded him…

"Dude, your kids are awesome. Seriously. And don't worry, they're doing just fine."

Other-Dean gave a relieved smile. "Good. I miss 'em."

"Yeah, well, you'll be seeing them soon enough."

"You didn't tell them anything, right?"

"Dude, no way! What kind of bastard do you think I am? Not gonna scar those kids for life with the truth. Now you're brother on the other hand…"

"You didn't!"

"He kept pushing. Guy doesn't know when to leave well enough alone."

"Please tell me he's the only one you told."

"Yep. Well, him and your mom."

"What!"

"Ah, she's cool with it. Knew 'bout the supernatural long before I came along. Ask her about it when you get back."

His other self looked at him as though trying to figure out if he was being played. Then he just shook his head. "You know, after the last couple of days, I'm not sure if anything can surprise me any more."

"Nice attitude." Dean approved. "Look, I've been thinking. I think you need a plan B, just in case."

"Sounds good."

Dean laughed. "Don't say that 'til you hear my plan."

…

…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…

…

Dean sat with his back to the furniture and his knees drawn up to his chest. He could hear the battle going on just a few feet away, but he tried not to pay attention to it. Hunter-Dean (as he had decided to call him) would let him know when it was time to move. He was glad that the more experienced version of himself had shown up, even if the other man couldn't actually participate in the fight. This waiting was driving him nuts and he was grateful for the company. After going over the backup plan (which he prayed they didn't have to use), he'd asked hunter-Dean how he'd gotten here. After the explanation, they decided that the other man would most likely be stuck here in this ghost-like state until they either set things right or his mom and the others found a way to reverse the spell. He really hoped it was going to be option number one, because he didn't want hunter-Dean to leave before this was over. He knew it sounded childish, but he was quickly running low on courage and the hunter seemed to be a good source of bravery.

"How's it going?" He used his head to gesture toward the skirmish in the center of the room.

"Sammy's dancing with tattoo-demon while skank-demon left her master's side to try and take out Bobby. Seems they're running low on lackeys."

"Yeah, but we're running low on time." Dean glanced at his watch. The ritual would be able to start in just a few minutes.

"Well, this probably'd be over already if Cas didn't decide to take a nap."

"You know, you should treat him with a lot more respect. He's an angel of the Lord. And from what I hear, he's saved your ass quite a few times."

"And trust me, I'm grateful for it."

"You apparently don't act it. The angel almost passed out from shock when I sent a few nice words his way."

Hunter-Dean just shrugged but didn't respond.

"Look, I get it. I really do. Castiel is an angel of God and you aren't exactly church-boy, right. You know, when my wife died, I got mad at God for a little while. Blamed Him for the tragedy. But I got over it, dude. And I know your life sucks so much worse than mine, but you do have some good stuff in it too. I've only been here a couple days and I can see that. And Castiel is one of those good things."

Dean waited to see what hunter-Dean's response would be. The other man seemed to be thinking it over. Then, just as he opened his mouth, a shot rang out.

"Dude, Sam shot Charcoal-butt in the head. It's time to move. Now!"

Without hesitation, Dean pulled the small switchblade from his pocket and flicked it open. He slid the blade across his palm and hissed in pain as the blood began to flow. Then he sprung to his feet and ran at the abomination.

Unfortunately, the creature saw him coming. He turned and Dean caught a glimpse of dark blood running down the right side of his face, and then Dean was flying across the room. He hit the wall and slumped to the ground.

"Well, this is a surprise. Since I know the adversary is far from here, you must be his alternate. I didn't foresee your participation, but it doesn't matter. You are far from a threat to me."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Dean responded, struggling to his feet.

"Oh, really?"

"I am Dean Winchester, and you are destined to die by my hand."

The abomination laughed. "I doubt that very much."

Dean started towards him once more, but was stopped by a woman's voice.

"That's far enough." He turned and found the slutty girl demon holding a gun on Sam who was just a few feet too far away to reach her. "Take a step back. If you get any closer to my master I will put a bullet through this one's head."

Dean stepped back. He could see hunter-Dean's frustrated expression and knew his face must be mirroring the feeling. But what could he do? Bobby was across the room, just now getting to his feet, Cas was still out cold, and Sam was in no position to help. If he couldn't get close to the abomination, neither plan A or plan B would work. Time for plan C.

In one swift move, Dean pulled the pistol he'd been given from the waistband of his pants and pointed it at his own head.

"I may not be able to kill you but I can ruin your plan. I know the score. This ritual only works if I'm alive. That's why you switched us instead of killing Dean in the first place. This ritual won't work if the adversary is dead. So, if I pull this trigger, it's all over for you. You'll lose."

The adversary's expression grew as dark as his skin color. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, wouldn't I? If you succeed, I'm trapped in this crap-hole of a world where I'll not only never see my family again, but I'll probably be killed by the now all-powerful piece of crap that you'll become. Thanks, but no thanks. If I gotta die, at least I'll ruin your day in the process."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Two cliffhangers in a row. Yep, I'm a dead man alright. But just remember: dead men don't write fanfiction. I hope you all enjoyed and please leave a review. Thanx._


	13. A Time to Fight

_**Author's Note:** Hey everyone! First of all (and most importantly) I'd like to thank Dean's Mom, lobita, alicia, lljn105, Evenmoor, DaughterOfPoseidon333, apester, DimensionJumper, agent iz hyper, Heartless BytchhakaHelenBach1, sam's folly, Julefor, KnightJellyofCamelot, and ESwan for their awesome reviews. You guys seriously rock... even those of you that have threatened my life. _

**Chapter Thirteen: A Time to Fight**

"No!" Dean took a step towards other-Dean, wanting nothing more than to grab the gun out of his hand. He wanted Sam to be safe and the abomination's plan to fail, but not at the expense of the life of a beloved father. Other-Dean had to stay alive to get home to his kids. But there was nothing Dean could do. Except try to talk other-Dean out of this asinine course of action. "Dude, this is a crappy plan. You can't go through with this. It won't solve anything, man. Charcoal-butt will still be alive and you'll be dead."

"If you pull the trigger, you'll be dead and will have no hope of defeating me." The abomination had no clue his words were mirroring Dean's. Actually, having that scum-bag agree with him made Dean feel a bit dirty. He'd have to take at least two showers… when he finally had a corporeal body again.

"I may not kill you today, but if I die, your plan fails. You get no second chance at this. And without the extra power from this ritual, you'll be vulnerable when the Dean from this universe gets back. And you know he will. He'll hunt you down and slaughter you like the pathetic animal you are."

"You wouldn't."

"Dude, you said that already. And I already told you I would."

Dean watched the interplay between them, feeling completely useless. Yes, there was a chance that other-Dean was just bluffing and had no intent on offing himself, but Dean couldn't be sure. Apparently an awesome poker-face was one of the things the two of them had in common.

"Okay look, if this is a bluff, let me know somehow. Like, nod your head or something."

He watched and felt a wave of relief as other-Dean slightly inclined his head.

"That was a nod, right?

A look of annoyance passed through other-Dean's face.

"Right, not a good time to talk. Look keep it up. I'll try to figure out some kind of distraction for demon-skank so you can gank Charcoal-butt."

Another slight nod. Then other-Dean continued talking. "You can't be allowed to win today, and I'm the only one who can stop this."

"I won't let you." The abomination insisted.

"How're you gonna stop me? Kill me? My finger's right on the trigger. Any move against me and my brains're gonna decorate you're floor."

Dean tuned the exchange out as he concentrated on coming up with a plan. But what the hell could he do? He was as useful as a freakin' ghost. Possibly even more useless. He knew ghosts could move crap around and stuff, but he wasn't sure if that would apply to him too and he didn't have the time to experiment. And if other-Dean was the only one who could see or hear him, then just how… Cas! Castiel would most certainly be able to see him if he'd just wake and get his feathered butt up.

Dean ran over and dropped down to his knees in front of the unconscious angel. "Cas, hey, can you hear me? Wake up, man, we need you. Cas, get up. C'mon dude, angels don't need sleep. So wakey, wakey and all that crap.

Nothing happened. Dean growled in frustration and, forgetting that he couldn't actually touch anything, reached out to shake the angel awake. His hand started to pass through Castiel's shoulder, but then he felt an electric-like shock run up through his arm. With a cry of surprise and pain, Dean jerked back and fell on his butt. He looked at his hand in confusion, then back at Cas. The angel's eye lids started to flutter. Dean had no clue what happened or why, but it looked like it was working. He got back on his knees, and then hesitantly reached back out and laid his hand on his friend's arm. Another shock ran through them, but this time Dean had been ready and had braced himself. When he pulled his hand back, Castiel's eyes opened wide. And then he looked right at Dean.

"Dean?" The angel's voice was barely above a whisper. Good. The last thing they needed was to draw attention to Cas.

"Shut up, Cas. Close your eyes and pretend you're still out. And to answer the questions that I'm sure are running through your head, I did some kinda spell in the other reality and ended up here. But not completely. I can't touch nothing and you and other-Dean are the only ones I can interact with. Anyway, Charcoal-butt's gotta be pushing up the daisies if we want to fix this mess. Other-Dean's stalling for time. We gotta take out Skanky-bitch over there before she puts a bullet in Sam. Then the other-me can finish this."

"I understand. Give me a moment." Dean could barely hear Cas.

"Dude, we don't have a moment!"

He got no response. Dean turned and saw that they were indeed running out of time. The longer other-Dean stalled, the more unsure of himself he appeared. A man who was going to kill himself wouldn't hesitate this long and his bluff would be called any second. Dean looked back to Cas, only to see him blink out of sight. A cry behind him alerted him to the angel's whereabouts.

Dean stood and spun around to see Castiel standing in front of demon-skank, his hand on her forehead. She screeched as the demon was burned right out of its meatsuit. The now empty body fell to the ground. There was a momentary pause as everyone stared. Then chaos erupted.

The abomination let out a severely pissed sounding growl. Bobby got to his feet and turned his shotgun on the abomination. Castiel's eyes rolled back and he dropped to the ground, thoroughly exhausted. Dean ran to check on Cas while keeping an eye on the others. Sam lunged forward to grab the gun demon-skank had dropped, while other-Dean dropped his gun and ran at Charcoal-butt.

…

..Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…

…

Dean had been so absorbed in his stand-off with the abomination that he had lost track of what hunter-Dean was up to. He'd last seen him crouched down in front of the angel Castiel, but he had kept his own attention on the abomination. So he hadn't seen Castiel wake up and didn't know how he'd gotten over to the slutty-looking demon girl, but whatever he did to her had been effective. He'd watched as she collapsed onto the ground. Dean tore his gaze away and realized he now had his chance. He'd better take it.

As he charged at the abomination, Dean dug his fingers into the wound he'd cut into his palm, causing fresh blood to flow freely. The black-skinned creature was howling in rage and staring at his fallen minion. Dean figured he cared less about the life of the demon and more about the fact that an angel and a bunch of humans were upsetting his plans. Either way, the abomination was so distracted with being pissed that he didn't see Dean coming until the last moment.

Dean crashed into his opponent, and thrust his bleeding hand up, making contact with the blackish-looking blood on the right side of the monster's head. He pressed hard and rubbed it all around to make sure his blood would get in the bullet wound. He felt his hand burn as the abomination's blood got into his cut, but he ignored it. He'd won, he'd be going home soon, and that was all that mattered.

But instead of reacting with pain or shriveling up or catching fire or whatever it was that was supposed to happen, the abomination simply laughed at Dean. Then the creature grabbed his hand, pulled it away from his head, and squeezed it so hard that Dean felt his bones beginning to crunch and splinter. He screamed in pain and tried to pull away, but the abomination wouldn't let go. He grabbed the front of Dean's shirt with his other hand and lifted him up off the ground. Then, with one final bone breaking squeeze, the abomination released Dean's mangled and bloody left hand and wiped his own blood from his forehead. There was no sign of the bullet wound. He'd already healed.

"You can't infect me with your poisonous blood now, boy. It looks like you lose. In just a few moments I will complete the ritual and then you will die. And it will be the slowest, most agonizing death I can imagine." With that he stepped to the alter, effortlessly holding Dean in front of him like a shield.

Dean tried to get free, but he was no where near strong enough. Besides, the excruciating pain radiating from his ruined hand was making his vision gray out a little around the edges. But he couldn't lose consciousness or all would be lost.

Just then, hunter-Dean stepped into his view.

"Dude, I think it's time for plan B."

_You think?_ Dean rolled his eyes at the rather obvious statement, but nodded. He waited for hunter-Dean to tell him what to say.

"Okay, ask Sammy if he remembers the hunt we went on with Dad in Newport, Maine. Back in '95."

"Hey, Sammy." Dean found that even talking was a chore. His voice sounded strained, even to himself, but he kept going. "Remember the hunt we went on with Dad back in '95? In Newport, Maine?"

"Dean, what are you talking about? You and I just met a couple days ago?"

"Dude, do you remember the hunt I'm talking about or not?"

"Silence!" The abomination ordered. Everyone ignored him.

"Yeah, but what does a werewolf hunt have to do with this?"

"Ask him if he remembers Dad's plan B. He should. He was pissed at Dad for months afterwards." Hunter-Dean prompted.

"Do you remember Dad's plan B. The one you were so pissed about?"

"I had a right to be angry. You… I mean, my Dean was only sixteen and what Dad did to him…"

"Yeah, well, it's time for plan B." Dean informed him.

"Be quiet, or I'll kill your friends." The abomination snapped. Again, he was ignored.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Sam exclaimed.

"Dude, plan B now!

Only a second passed before Dean once again heard the sound of a gunshot. This time though, he felt the pain of the bullet as it passed through him. And just as planned, the projectile went in the back of his left shoulder and out the front, finally finding its resting place imbedded in the abomination's flesh. Of course since the bullet had gone through Dean first, it had been coated with his blood when it entered the abomination and that was all it took.

The creature let out an ear piercing shriek and dropped Dean to the floor. The young man lay there, trying not to pass out. He needed to make sure this was well and truly over. He turned his head enough to get a clear view of his opponent. The abomination was clutching his right shoulder, where the bullet had entered. Sickly-looking red veins were popping up under his skin, which was looking more gray than black. His screams were cut off as blood began to pour from his mouth.

Dean felt hands grab him as Sam pulled him away from the nightmare before him. The abomination's skin began to rot away as the red veins burst and thick dark fluid rained down on the ground. Then the creature fell over, its body making an awful squishing sound as it connected with the cement. The abomination made no more sound or movement as its blood continued to rush from its body.

Dean turned away from the awful sight and looked at the alternate version of his brother, who was hovering over him.

"I think we won." He managed to say.

"Yeah, Dean. You did good. Just hold on, we'll get you patched up. Bobby's trying to wake Cas and he'll be able to help you."

"Oh, good. 'Cause, you know, this really hurts." Then he saw hunter-Dean looking down at him. "Hey, Dean. Nice plan."

"Dude, you're a lot tougher than I gave you credit for. I'll go get Cas and then…" Hunter-Dean seemed to flicker for a moment, then he disappeared all together. Dean blinked, trying to figure out if the other version of himself was truly gone or if he was beginning to lose consciousness. Before he could sort it all out, he felt an odd tingling sensation and then everything went dark.

_**Author's Note Part Two:** Hope you all enjoyed. Please take a second and leave a review for me. Thanx._


	14. There's No Place Like Home

_**Author's Note: **Well, here we are. The final chapter. I'm kinda sad to see this end. But before we get started, I want to thank KnightJellyofCamelot, ESwan, Julefor, Evenmoor, DimensionJumper, agent iz hyper, apester, sam's folly, and DaughterOfPoseidon333 for their wonderful reviews. And thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or alerted this story. Your support really means the world to me. And now, with no further delay, I present... the end._

**Chapter Fourteen: There's No Place Like Home**

Dean Winchester, auto shop teacher and beloved father of two, opened his eyes and squinted in the bright sunlight. Yet again he was waking up to pain but he was aware that he should be in a lot more of it. Of course, if the slightly hazy feeling in his brain was any indication, he was on some serious painkillers. Thank God. Dean turned his face away from the light and blinked a few time to clear his vision. Sitting in a chair next to the comfortable bed he was lying on was Sam. But his hair was no longer a bit too long and his face wasn't filled with signs of years of hard living. This was his Sam. Which must mean…

"I'm home?" his voice was weak, but audible.

"Yeah, Dean. You made it back." His little brother leaned forward and gently hugged him.

Dean went to put his arms around Sam to return the hug, but found that his left arm was strapped down in a tight sling. Looking down he saw his hand was heavily bandaged as well.

"You're gonna have to get that checked out. Jo wrapped it up after resetting the bones, but she said you'll need x-rays to make sure you don't need surgery. We would've taken you to the hospital when you reappeared last night, but they would've contacted the police because of your gunshot wound and we weren't sure how to explain it. But Jo stitched it up so when you feel a little stronger we can take you to just get you're hand looked at."

"Oh. Okay." Dean paused for a moment, trying to take everything in. "Who's Jo?"

"A hunter we called to help get you back. She's also a paramedic."

"So I take it she's the one that provided me with the happy-pills?"

"Yeah, man. You're on strong painkillers for the time being."

"Where are the kids?"

"Having breakfast. They spent the night with you in here, but Jess finally convinced them to go eat."

"Jess… does she know what happened?"

"No. I somehow doubt she'd believe all this. Hell, I didn't at first. And we didn't have the time to explain it. She came home while we were patching you up. We told her that you and I went out to grab some food and when we stumbled onto some kind of drug deal you got hurt protecting me. Said we couldn't take you to a hospital because while they couldn't recognize us or you them, it was too risky that they'd go there to look for someone matching your injuries."

"So you ripped off the plot of some lame-ass crime drama."

"Pretty much."

Dean laughed. "It's great to be back, dude."

"It's great to have you back."

"I'll second that."

Dean turned to look towards the bedroom door. "Mom. Hey."

"How are you feeling, honey?"

"In a little pain, but okay."

"What happened over there?"

"Some freak… he wanted to do some kind of ritual to get real powerful. That's why he switched me and the other Dean… the one who you met. Apparently some prophesy said that Dean Winchester was the only one who could kill him and so he thought that by sending him here and me there no one could stop him. Anyway, we killed him."

"We? Who were you with?"

"Uh, the other Sam, a hunter named Bobby, and an angel named Castiel. Oh, and hunter-Dean showed up to but he was like a ghost or something and I was the only one that could see or hear him." Dean looked at his mom and brother. "So Dean was telling the truth then? You guys know about everything?"

"Yeah, man. He told us all about where he came from." Sam answered.

"And Mom, he said you had already known about the supernatural?"

"Oh, he told you that, did he? Well, that's true, but it's a story for another time. When you're feeling better."

"I'd like to hear it too." Sam put in before turning back to his older brother. "So, what was it like there?"

"Dude, I was there just a couple of days and look at me now! It sucked, man. Although meeting an angel was kinda awesome."

"Let's give him some time to rest, Sam. We can grill him about it some other time. Besides, I hear some others that are coming to visit now."

No sooner had she said the words than two small children ran into the room. Dean thought that his heart would burst from the happiness he felt as his two kids climbed up onto the bed with him.

"Look Daddy, I drew you a picture!" Becca was waving a piece of paper at him. He could see the colorful crayon markings all over it. "It's just like the one I drew you yesterday, but this one's to make you feel all better from your booboos."

"Yeah? Oh, hey it's working! I'm feeling so much better now."

"Yay!"

"Dada! Dada!" Nick was bouncing on the bed next to him. The movement and the fact that Becca had sat herself down on his chest was making the pain flare up terribly, but joy of having his children with him made it worth the discomfort.

"Hey, little man!"

"Nick was goin' draw you somethin' like yesterday too, but he ripped it and Aunt Jess'ca can't find the tape."

"That's okay. All I need to feel better is the two of you." Dean sat up and used his good arm to pull them both to him. As he hugged his children, he looked over at his mom and brother with tears in his eyes. He was home and life couldn't be any better.

…

..Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…

…

Dean Winchester, expert hunter and awesome big brother, opened his eyes, blinking a few times to focus on the poorly lit room. A very familiar poorly lit room. Before the revelation that he was in Bobby's house had time to sink in, Sam walked into his line of sight and dropped down to look him in the face. And Sam's hair was once again way too long and the look in his eyes was haunted, concerned, kind, and relieved. This was his Sam. Which must mean…

"I'm home?"

"Yeah, Dean. You're home."

"'Bout time. Took you guys long enough."

"What are you complaining about? You got a nice vacation and we had to do all the work."

"All the work my ass! I was here, sort of. You just couldn't see me so I had to deal with other-Dean. Who do you think told him all that plan B crap?"

"That was you?"

"No, it was the ghost of Winchester past. Of course it was me."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"Well, good to have you back, jerk."

"Good to be back, bitch."

"If you two ladies are done with your heartfelt reunion, there's breakfast on the table." Bobby stuck his head around the doorway.

"C'mon Dean. You okay to get up?"

Dean looked from the older hunter back to his brother. "Yeah, I feel fine." He looked down at his hand. The once horribly infected wound was now just a small mostly healed puncture mark. "Go on. I'll be there in a moment."

"Okay." Sam left the room, glancing over his shoulder as if to assure himself that his big brother wasn't going to disappear again.

Once he was alone, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out two folded pieces of paper. He opened them up and stared at the colorful crayon scribbles that covered the pages from a child's doodle pad. And tucked safely inside of them was a picture of two small children. Dean looked at both the drawings and the photo, smiling sadly, before folding them back up and putting them back. He then stood and walked into Bobby's kitchen.

Bobby was just pouring another cup of coffee as he entered.

"Hey, old man. You manage to not burn the bacon this time?"

"You know, the other Dean cooked breakfast for me."

"Well, you're the one who helped to switched us back. No one to blame but yourself."

Bobby chuckled. "Missed you too, boy."

Dean smiled. He picked up a cup of coffee and was about to take a sip when Cas suddenly appeared less than a foot in front of him. Dean just barely avoided spilling the hot drink all over himself.

"Dude, I gotta put a bell on you or something."

Cas gave him his signature confused head tilt.

"In other words… some warning would be nice."

"It was not my intention to startle you."

"Yeah, I know." Other-Dean's advise about how to treat the angel came back to Dean. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Dean continued. "Hey anyways, thanks for helping to get me back home. And since you're here now, you know, you might as well join us for breakfast."

Sam looked over at Dean then to Bobby. "Are you sure that's our Dean?"

"Ha ha ha, Sammy. You're a riot."

"He's got a point, Dean. You've never invited Castiel to breakfast before."

"Yeah, Bobby? Well maybe I just wanna keep him around to heal me when I get sick off your cooking."

"Oh, now we're back to that?"

"The food appears to be well cooked, Dean." Cas informed him. "I do not believe there's any reason for concern."

Dean looked at his three friends and smiled. Other-Dean was right. His life may suck, but there were some very good things in it. And Dean was glad to be back with them.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope everyone enjoyed. I would really appreciate if you could all leave a review to let me know what you thought of the story. Also, I am looking for ideas for another story to write. I write Dean-based stories and dont do slash. If you have any suggestions please leave them in your review or pm me. Thanks again to all of you and once more I ask you to please let me know what you thought of this._


End file.
